The New Hope Cafe (13 page)

Jonah couldn’t stand to see her so upset. “You get to have a
life, CJ. Bunny wouldn’t begrudge you that. She’s pretty sturdy.”

“No, she’s not. She puts on an act. You have no idea how
fragile she is, how vulnerable.” She took a sharp breath. “I have to focus on
her, watch over her, watch out for her. That’s my job.”

She was eating her guts out over this. Her daughter already
felt too much pressure. “The last thing she needs is for you to hover over her
more. It already weighs on her.”

She homed in on him. “She told you that?”

“She says she likes being in my shop because you’re not there
worrying about her like you do in the café.”

CJ looked like she’d been punched.

When would he learn to keep his mouth shut? “Forget I said
anything.”

“No. I should know that. I’m glad she confided in someone.” But
her cheeks had red blotches and she kept blinking. He’d hurt her. She squeezed
the bag hard, making a huge blob on the roll below her.

Jonah picked up the other bag and started squirting. How could
he fix this? Not with words. He’d done enough damage with them already. Trying
to reassure her, he’d made her feel like a bad mother. He wrote
ass
in frosting on the roll.

How many times had he hurt Suzanne like that or worse? Tried to
comfort her, but made her cry harder. Or
gave her
space
when she was desperate for company. Then there was Evan. He’d
fumbled with him, too, made him defensive, pushed him closer to the edge.
The biggest threat to my sobriety is my own
brother.

He’d stepped crosswise with Rosie, too, telling her to quit
living in the Eddie Underhill Memorial Museum and get a life, meet men, visit
friends, only to have her stop talking to him for days.

When it came to emotions, he was at sea. Like his dad, who’d
shut down totally when his wife walked out. Jonah did the same with the
miscarriage and Suzanne—shut down, backed away from her grief.

Maybe Rosie and Evan were right. Maybe he should move to New
York. He wasn’t doing much good sticking around.

CJ was right not to sleep with him, but not for the reason she
claimed. If they got involved, she would expect more from him. It was only
natural. And he would let her down, hurt her worse. Better to quit while they
were ahead.

And he would back off on the personal talk with Bunny, make
sure she took her problems to her mother. It wasn’t much of a fix, but it was
all he could do.

Jonah hoped to hell by the time he went to bed, the pink smell
would be gone. Fool that he was, he’d miss her anyway.

* * *

“M
Y
DAUGHTER
…she talk to
Beth Ann.
Anoche.
Las’ ni’.”

Barrett sat up in bed, fighting the fog of sleep to understand
Estrella Sandoval’s halting words.

When he’d visited the Sandovals, she’d promised to call if Beth
Ann contacted her daughter Serena. It had happened. At last, two weeks after his
release, Barrett had gotten the break he’d been living for.

Estrella told him that late last night, she’d found Serena
talking with Beth Ann. Serena admitted they’d spoken before Saturday, but that
she’d promised Beth Ann not to tell anyone.

Estrella’s voice shook. Barrett’s hints about
la migra
had scared her. He rushed to reassure her in
the passable Spanish he’d used as a family lawyer. He told her he was grateful
to Serena for being a good friend to his daughter and promised to thank them
both in person as soon as he could get there.

He’d bring gifts, of course, and extract every detail he could
from the little girl and her mother.

At last a lead.
Barrett was beside
himself with excitement. Malloy’s pretext calls to Cara’s principal and Beth
Ann’s school had netted nothing and so far Cara had stayed off the grid. She was
smarter than he’d given her credit for.

Barrett jumped in the car, and drove for Barstow, stopping at
the first electronics store he passed to buy a big-screen TV and the latest
gaming system. By early afternoon, he again sat in the neat trailer, dense with
the smell of fried cornmeal, religious pictures on the walls.

The Sandovals were thrilled with his gifts, but wary of him. He
promised Beth Ann would visit as soon as possible—a lie, but it made Serena
relax enough to repeat every word of each conversation the two girls had
had.

Beth Ann had told Serena she lived above a café where her
mother was a waitress. Cara’s mother’s rattletrap had broken down as he’d
speculated, but Serena didn’t know how long they’d been on the road when it
happened or the name of the café or the town where it was located.

Interstates snaked in all directions from Barstow, but Malloy
could earn his keep calling restaurants in an ever-widening radius, asking about
new hires.

Serena told him Beth Ann had made friends with a wild cat with
one eye, that she’d built a wooden treasure box, that she loved ketchup and that
she missed Serena, her teacher and her school.

Barrett made the girl swear that, if Beth Ann called again, she
would keep his visit a secret so as not to spoil the surprise, but if she
learned the name of the café or the town, she would call him.

Serena nodded yes, her eyes big and earnest. Estrella would
enforce the promise. The threat of
la migra
hovered
over her like the angels in the painting above her head.

One thing Serena said had upset him. The reason Beth Ann had
called so late was that she’d had a bad dream and couldn’t find her mother. That
made Barrett’s blood boil. What the hell was Cara doing? It had been a Saturday
night. Was she bar hopping? On a date? Had she turned into her mother,
constantly after male attention?

No. It couldn’t be. Cara was too sweet for that. He mentally
slammed the manhole cover on his roiling rage. This got harder each day that
passed without finding his family. He’d begun to exceed the recommended dose of
mood pills just to keep from exploding at his poor mother over minor
annoyances.

But now he was close.
So close.
Barrett burned with adrenaline. He had
half a mind to start hunting himself. The wait was killing him.

He tried to stay busy. He’d found a house and the sellers had
accepted his offer. He would keep Cara busy decorating it.
Nesting,
they called it.

There was one other painful detail Serena had shared. Cara had
been baking again. That was good, but it reminded him of when she’d stopped.
Once she’d gotten it in her head to go to college, she’d had no time to bake. No
time for him or Beth Ann or the ordinary joys that made life worth living.

She’d gotten lost, become selfish. It was his mission to help
her find her way back to the contentment she’d lost in the fruitless search for
external approval.

He would approach her with love.

Cara, my darling. If I could take back
every hard word, every angry touch, I would. I support you. I respect you. I
adore you. We need to be a family again. To be whole.

The words brought tears to his eyes. He hoped they’d do the
same for Cara.

Soon he would have her at his side and his daughter on his
shoulders—though Beth Ann was nine now, possibly too old for piggyback
rides.

But no child outgrew ice cream.

They’d have Family Night at Carcher’s every night if it made
Beth Ann happy. He wanted to give her the world. He couldn’t wait. It was hard
not to call her right now. He’d programmed her number into his phone. Two clicks
and he’d hear her voice in his ear.

Wait. Use caution.
In his law
practice, he’d dealt with fearful women. Barrett knew to proceed with care.
Before he made contact, he had to locate them and assess their situation,
determine the best approach. He couldn’t afford one false step.

If he lost them again, he didn’t know what he might be forced
to do.

CHAPTER TWELVE

M
ONDAY
,
AFTER
she got back from the
first day of day camp, Beth Ann headed for Jonah’s shop. She
had
to use his computer.
Had
to.

She hoped Jonah wouldn’t be grouchy like yesterday. He’d showed
her how to use the vise and a small saw to cut short legs for her castle stand,
but he’d hardly talked to her. When he looked at her, he frowned. Had her mom
told him about Beth Ann’s crying fit the night before? Did he think she was a
baby?

That idea made her feel sick. She hated for Jonah to think she
was that weak. She would have stayed away today, but she had to find out what
happened to Serena. Jonah’s computer was the only way she could think of.

She’d called Serena Saturday night because she’d
had to.
First, she’d dreamed her daddy was chasing her
with a knife and she woke up gasping for air. Then she ran to her mom’s room,
but the bed was made.
She’s gone. She’s gone. Daddy took
her. I’m all alone.
It was how she’d felt when her mom got put in the
coma. Her grandma had said she might not wake up ever.

Standing there so scared, Beth Ann’s brain went black as
midnight and she started to shake like that time she’d had the flu. She ran for
her puzzle box and called her friend. She had to. It was an
emergency.

And it helped. Serena calmed her down just talking about
ordinary things. Chulita. The last days of school. The laptop she got to check
out from school for the summer because of her good grades. She told her that
Beth Ann
had
won the reading prize. But Serena hung
up in the middle of telling her about Water Day. Then all day Sunday she didn’t
answer her phone. That was weird. Had her mom taken it away? Was Serena in
trouble?

Beth Ann had to find out. Two girls she’d met at day camp had
reminded her of a way to do it. They were the only other third-graders besides
Beth Ann at the stupid camp, so they had to talk to her.

Amanda was kind of bossy and a show-off, but she included Beth
Ann when she and Rachel started IM’ing each other with their iPads instead of
making sock puppets like the little kids.

Beth Ann had used Instant Message at school. And Serena had a
laptop now. She’d said it was because of her grades, but Beth Ann knew it was
also because her family was poor.

Beth Ann would download the free IM program on Jonah’s computer
and text Serena. Instant Message would be good, too, since Beth Ann had used up
half the minutes on the secret phone.

At the workshop door, Beth Ann took a deep breath and closed
her eyes. She could hear Jonah hammering.
Please don’t be
grouchy at me. Pretty please.

She opened her eyes and went in. “Hey, Jonah.”

“Hey.” Jonah gave a quick smile, then went back to work. So
far, so good.

“Is it okay to use your computer?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Whew. She climbed onto the stool, clicked onto the internet, so
nervous she felt sweat pop everywhere on her body.

In a few seconds, she had Instant Message loaded and she logged
in, then clicked her friends list, her heart racing.
SerenaS
was offline. Darn, darn, darn. She wrote a message anyway so
Serena would see it the next time she used WiFi in the rec center at her trailer
park.

Now she had to wait. She logged out and scooted over to her
castle so she could put the legs on the base.

“Drawbridge working okay?” Jonah asked.

Beth Ann pulled the string, but it popped out. “The knot won’t
hold.”

He walked over and looked at it, then went to get something
from one of his drawers. He brought her back a spool of plastic thread. “This is
thicker. Try it.” He went back to work.

She cut some thread, knotted it and tested it. “It worked. Now
all I have to finish is the base.”

“You built a handsome castle.” He was being nice. Maybe he’d
forgotten about her being a crybaby.

“I like it.” The walls were wavy and the towers didn’t match,
but she was proud of it. “I wish it could be real. I could pull up the
drawbridge and be totally private.”

“Yeah? I built a tree fort like that when I was a little older
than you. Put the lowest rung too high for my little brother to reach. Mean, I
guess, but I wanted a place of my own.”

“That would be cool.”

“It was.” He looked over at her. “Was camp as bad as you
expected?”

“Mostly, yeah. It was all little kids except for two girls my
age.”

“Did you like them?”

“They’re okay. Amanda’s bossy. Rachel’s quiet. She likes
cats.”

“So you hung out?”

“We were stuck together. Their other friends are on vacation.”
Listening to them talk and joke made her miss Serena more than ever.

“You have to get used to each other. Maybe invite the one who
likes cats out to meet Louis or—no.” He frowned. “That’s up to you and your mom.
I need to get this work done.”

He
was
mad at her. Her cheeks felt
hot, so she focused on finishing her castle. She measured the legs, then checked
again before she cut, but when she glued them on, the base slanted down. She
sighed.

“Troubles?” Jonah asked.

“The legs don’t match. I measured twice and cut once.”

“You can still make a mistake, Squirt.”

“You don’t.”

“Sure I do. I just don’t talk about it. I’ve redone the lip for
this pastry display case twice now. You’ll get better.”

“I have to start over, right? Since wood doesn’t forgive?”

“You’ve got plenty of scrap. It’s good practice.”

“The reason wood doesn’t forgive is because it’s hard.” Beth
Ann measured and marked the skinny board. “My grandma says my mom’s heart is
hard. That’s why she doesn’t forgive.” She’d said it during that bad argument.
Saying it out loud now made her throat ache.

Jonah put down his hammer and turned to her. “That’s baloney.
Your mom has a big heart.” He paused. “She loves you like crazy. In fact—” He
frowned. “Just talk to her. I’ve got work to do here.”

She sucked in a breath. She’d made him angry. She couldn’t
stand it. “Is it because I talk too much? Is that why you’re mad at me?”

“Mad at you? I’m not mad at you. You can talk all you want
about woodwork. I’m no good at the personal stuff. That’s for your mom and
you.”

Her cheeks felt hotter than ever.

Serena was gone and now Jonah didn’t want to talk to her. She
didn’t feel like being in the shop anymore. She got off her stool.

“You heading out?”

She nodded.

“You get what I said? About talking to your mom?”

She nodded again, but it wouldn’t work. Her mom would just feel
worse and worry more. And Beth Ann had already hurt her mom enough.

“And there isn’t one thing you could do that your mom wouldn’t
forgive, Beth Ann. That’s the last I’ll say about that.”

“Okay,” she said to be polite. She was almost to the café when
she realized he’d called her
Beth Ann.
Not
Bunny
or even
Squirt.
How
did he know her name? It was probably a mistake, but she didn’t care. It felt
like a hug for her heart. It almost took away the hurt of him not wanting to
talk to her anymore.

* * *

T
UESDAY
NIGHT
AFTER
supper, Cara headed to Jonah’s woodshop. He wanted her to approve the
colors he would paint the new sign. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have entered his
sanctuary. The disagreement about Beth Ann had put distance between them. The
easy teasing was gone, along with the intense looks, the secret smiles, the
thrill of casual touches, the intimacy and connection. She missed that. She
missed him.

They worked together still, but it wasn’t the same. Cara felt
alone.

She was determined to get back to being friends again. Surely,
they could get past her bad judgment. They’d come so far. She’d brought a peace
offering—a puzzle box with
Jonah’s Treasures
burned
into the lid she’d found in a crate she’d emptied for Rosie’s yard sale. She
hoped looking through it would get them talking like they used to.

At the doorway, she stopped to watch Jonah work. He was
hammering nails into the pastry display case. Watching him doing the work he
loved put butterflies in her stomach and made her pulse race. But that happened
every time she caught sight of him—standing, sitting, walking around, flipping
burgers on the grill.

Cara steadied herself, put the box on a shelf just inside the
door for when they’d finished with business, and stepped into the lovely sawdust
smell and cozy golden light of Jonah’s haven.

“Hey,” she said softly.

He turned to her, hammer in hand. “Hey.” He looked delighted to
see her. His gaze stayed on her, drinking her in.
He misses
me, too.

That gave her hope as she walked closer. “Looks like you’re
nearly done,” she said, touching the corner of the case.

“Just need to put in the rotating racks, lights and the sliding
glass doors.”

“It’s beautiful.” She ran her hand over the curlicues he’d
carved into the borders. “This is like the teacup steam, huh?”

“That’s the idea.”

“You added so much detail.”

He shrugged. “I wanted it to be right.”

“It’s like everything you build—functional and beautiful.”

He looked down, embarrassed by her praise. “The sign won’t take
me long once you approve the colors. I’ll install the case once we finish
painting on Monday.”

“That’s perfect. Darlene said she’ll help us paint. She’s going
to cover my shifts while I run Rosie’s sale. She wants any extra shifts we can
give her. I guess her boyfriend’s not working much.”

“Construction’s down.”

“I hired him to hang the sign, by the way. His boss has a
cherry-picker.”

“Good. You haven’t missed a detail, CJ.”

“So far,” she said, but his admiration warmed her. His
admiration and the way he kept drinking her in.

“You even got Rosie out of town until the dust settles.”

Rosie.
Her stomach clenched. Monday
was her surgery. Cara was so scared for her.

“We’re going to have to start calling you Rosie Whisperer.”

“I don’t know about that.” If Rosie did have cancer, it would
take more than whispers to get her to cooperate with treatment.

“Something up?” he asked.

“Just that we have a lot going on.” She didn’t want to have to
fib about Rosie any more than she had already.

“Let me show you the sign.” He led her to his computer on Beth
Ann’s worktable. She sat on the stool and he leaned past her to click the mouse.
She closed her eyes and breathed him in, grateful she was sitting so her knees
couldn’t buckle. Being this near him was a guilty pleasure.

“What do you think?”

She opened her eyes to see the sketch colored in. The teacup
was lilac with mustard accents. The letters were in red with black shadows.

“I love it,” she said. “It’s friendly and festive and fresh.
Exactly the feeling I want for the café.”

“Then I’ll go with that.” He turned to her, so close it was
almost an embrace. His breath hitched. Hers did the same. She noticed flecks of
latte in the espresso of his eyes…and the golden glow in the center. Desire.

It flickered, then went out, like a failing fluorescent bulb.
That was proper, but it made her sad.

She turned away and noticed Beth Ann’s castle. “It was a good
idea to get her building with toothpicks. So was inviting Rachel out to meet the
cat.”

“On that, I didn’t mean to interfere.”

“You didn’t. I also thought about what you said. Maybe I do
hover too much.”

“No. I put my foot in my mouth and—”

“That’s part of why she won’t confide in me, I realized. She’s
afraid I’ll worry more. So I’m glad you said what you said.”

“I made you feel worse. I didn’t intend that.” He paused, his
jaw locked, his gaze fierce. “You matter to me. Both of you. That’s why I
overstepped.”

“You matter to us, Jonah. To me.” Their connection snapped into
place. She was glad. She felt instantly better.

“Good. I’ll try to keep my foot out of my mouth here on out.
Shoe leather tastes nasty.”

“Try rosemary,” she said. “Maybe a bay leaf.”

“And a red wine reduction?”

“Perfect.” She laughed.

“We’re good?” he asked.

“Better than ever, I think.” She remembered the treasure box.
“I found something of yours.”

“Yeah?”

Cara retrieved the box from the shelf and held it out. “It was
in one of Rosie’s crates. It’s like the puzzle box you helped Bunny make, but
bigger.”

He grinned. “I thought this got tossed.” He ran his fingers
over the top, making her think of the way he’d touched her. She almost
shivered.

“Let’s see what’s here.” He motioned for her to take the stool
and pulled up his own, setting the box on Beth Ann’s worktable. He pushed a spot
on one side, then one in front and the lid popped up.

“So that’s the secret,” she said.

He put a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell her you know.”

Cara pretended to turn a lock on her lips.

He set the lid aside and rummaged inside, picking up a scuffed
baseball. “Caught this at a Cubs game. My dad took us. Best day ever, except
Evan ate too many hot dogs and puked on the way home.”

She leaned in to see, their heads nearly touching. Jonah pushed
aside a blue ribbon, a pellet gun, a couple of action figures, then picked up a
block of pale wood with a paper wrapped around it. “Damn.” He sat back, holding
it.

“What is it?”

“Piece of birch my dad gave me after he taught me to
carve.”

“Were you close? You and your dad?”

“In the shop.” He peeled off the rubber band and uncurled the
paper. “I went through an Indian myth phase. This lists all the spirit animals
and what they represent. I did a spirit quest in the woods to find my animal
guide. I took a tent, a notebook, some water and a couple granola bars and
waited for a vision.”