The Wishing Season (20 page)

His eyes darkened and his jaw flexed. “Burger Barn?”

“Okay, maybe it was the Candlelight Café, but still. They’ve been giving me backup options for months, like they see the failure coming.” She looked down at the half-eaten breadstick on her plate, thinking of her bank balance and the weeks of winter left. “Maybe they’re right.”

“Hey. No matter what happens, you’ve worked your butt off to make that restaurant succeed. Win or lose, you should be proud of that.”

Maybe so. But winning would prove she could do it. And she was coming to realize, it wasn’t just her family she needed to prove it to.

Chapter Twenty-Five

C
HRISTMAS AND
N
EW
Y
EAR
’
S SLOWLY PASSED, AND THE
kids returned to school. With the festivities over, the restaurant hit a lull.

PJ was returning from the butcher’s with boxes of fresh steaks when she spotted Ryan sitting in front of the Avery house. Exhaust curled from the tailpipe of his truck, and the wipers came on intermittently, chasing away the flurries.

The house hunkered in the snow like a lazy groundhog, and a For Sale sign protruded crookedly from the frozen ground.

PJ pulled to the curb behind him, then got out and knocked on his passenger window with cold knuckles.

He startled, then unlocked the doors.

She jumped inside, shivering. “Okay, it’s officially winter.”

“You’re only now noticing?”

“It’s hard to remain in denial when it’s three degrees and there’s a foot of snow on the ground.”

“Good point.”

She breathed into her scarf, watching her brother from the corner of her eyes. He turned up the heat and settled back into his seat, one hand draped over the steering wheel.

He was a typical guy, not much of a talker, but she couldn’t let this pass. “So . . . you’re sitting in front of the Avery house.”

“Yep.”

Seconds ticked by. PJ surveyed the house. The walk had been cleared, but mounds of fresh snow covered the porch steps. The blinds had been pulled, giving the house a boarded-up feel. But she knew Ryan’s being here didn’t have anything to do with the house, not really.

“What are you doing, Ryan?”

He looked at the house, a wistful expression on his face as his eyes skated over the property. Finally he looked away, the stubborn McKinley look coming over his features.

“I’m going to buy it.”

“What?”

“I’m buying the house.”

Okay, maybe it was about the house. A really big house with at least four bedrooms, and a backyard meant for big family barbecues.

“But . . . why?”

He pulled his hand from the steering wheel, turned down the heat. He cleared his throat, a sure sign he was getting emotional. “I’ve always wanted it, you know that.”

Actually Abby had always wanted it, but PJ wasn’t about to say that. She wondered if he could afford it, then decided it was none of her business. She wasn’t going to second-guess him the way everyone did her.

“Still . . . it’s a lot of house for one person.”

“Spring’s just around the corner. If I wait, someone will put in an offer, and I’ll lose it for good.”

PJ wondered if they were still talking about the house. Someone had to talk him out of this. “Have you told Mom and Dad?”

“Nope. I’m putting in an offer tonight. It’s reasonable. They’ll accept.”

She couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel for him, living alone in Abby’s dream home night after night. She shouldn’t say anything. It was none of her business, and Ryan was one of the most sensible people she knew. Still, he was about to make a huge decision, and what if it was a monumental mistake? What if it only made him miss her more?

“Ryan . . . it won’t bring her back . . . you know that, right?”

When he fixed his eyes on her, she knew she’d overstepped. She squirmed in her seat.

“You know, PJ, when you went after this restaurant thing, did I try to burst your bubble? No, I showed up and helped you paint, fixed your plumbing, and moved you in.”

“I’m sorry. I’m only concerned about you.”

“Well, don’t be.”

“I don’t want you to make a mistake or look back and think I should’ve stopped you.”

“Don’t worry. If things turn sideways, I’ll realize it’s all my fault.”

She wondered again if they were still talking about the house. For once she didn’t know what to say or do. He was the older brother, the one with the answers. The one who always knew what to do.

He turned away. “Maybe you should go. The Realtor will be here any minute, and I want to handle this alone.”

If that wasn’t a dismissal, she didn’t know what was. She reached for the handle. “All right. See you later.” She got out and pushed the door shut, the wind tugging at her hair. He didn’t even say good-bye.

Chapter Twenty-Six

C
OLE CLOSED HIS CHECKBOOK AND GATHERED THE STACK OF
bills. Cutting it so close every month wasn’t his idea of fun. His window installation work had dried up because of the cold weather, and he wondered if he could make it until spring when the home improvement business picked back up.

He’d had no luck finding another job or another donor. It seemed everyone was struggling to make ends meet. When Mrs. Simmons called to check on his progress, he focused on the positive things like Shaundra’s decision to attend Vincennes University, Zac’s improving grades, and Josh’s softening toward the others. But at the end he’d have to give an accounting of the finances, and it wasn’t going to be good.

He flipped on the TV and turned to ESPN, where they were previewing the upcoming Super Bowl between the Broncos and Packers.

The kids were in their rooms. The sound of Zac’s guitar carried quietly through the walls, Cole’s many lectures having finally paid off. After a hectic day of errands, he was glad to be home.

Home.

There was a word he hadn’t used in a while. No place had deserved the title, not even Greg and Becky’s. That he used
the word now made anxiety flare up. This place wasn’t his, not yet. Might never be. He knew better than most not to get too attached to people or places.

A car started up out back. PJ’s cooking class must be over. She’d closed the restaurant on Tuesday nights in favor of the more lucrative classes. The smell of something sweet and chocolate wafted into his living room, making his mouth water.

He wondered if she’d come up tonight. She’d been doing that lately since their outing at Cappy’s a few weeks ago. He understood her better now that she’d confided in him. It astounded him that she didn’t see how capable she was. How amazing. Her smile lit a whole room. Her personality was like helium, lighter than air, making everything float.

He enjoyed their conversations, their banter. She played and teased and made him smile. But he was all too aware of his attraction. When she came up he was careful to sit in the recliner across from her. Careful to avoid touching her, to avoid getting close enough to catch a whiff of her sweet flowery smell. He was already infatuated, no need to tempt himself further.

They kept the conversation light. She seemed to have a lot of acquaintances but no close friends. He wondered about that. That she sought him out for friendship made him feel good—a feeling he needed to keep in check. Sometimes he caught her looking at him in a way that made him think she was feeling more too. He had to be careful. This couldn’t go anywhere. She deserved so much better than him even if she didn’t seem to know it.

“Knock-knock.”

His spirits buoyed at the sound of her voice.

She swept into the room with a plate of heaven in her hand. “Chocolate lava cake, anyone?”

“For me?” Cole sat up, accepting the plate.

She sank onto the sofa beside him, close but not touching. “We had leftovers.”

“Thanks. It smells great.” He took a bite and let the flavors roll around on his tongue. “Mmm, still warm,” he said around a mouthful.

“Where are the kids?”

“In bed, except for Zac.”

“I hear him.” She cocked her head. “ ‘Sweet Child of Mine’?”

“For the thousandth time.”

“That’s a lot tamer than some of his other stuff. At least he’s good.”

“Speaking of good.” He took another bite. “How do you do it?”

“Glad you like it. I created the recipe in school. It has coffee to bring out the chocolate flavor. I love making desserts. Unfortunately I love eating them too. If I keep it up, I’m going to bust out of my whites.”

“Something tells me you have enough energy to work off more desserts than you’ll ever eat.”

He finished the dessert while she regaled him with cooking class stories. A group of ladies from the yacht club had signed up for the class. PJ was under the impression they were only trying to support her, but if they were learning to make desserts like this, they were the winners hands down.

On TV an interview with Coach John Fox rumbled quietly. They watched awhile, PJ rolling her eyes at Fox’s claims of a confident win over the Packers.

Cole set his empty plate aside. He should take it over to the kitchen, put some distance between them, but the interview
and PJ’s commentary were engrossing. He’d get up when it was over.

“Oh, please,” PJ said. “They don’t stand a chance.”

“You have something against the Broncos?”

“Have you seen Green Bay’s offense?”

“They’re good, but the Broncos are nothing to sneeze at. Heard of Peyton Manning?”

“I liked him better in blue.”

“We all did.” He grinned at her, loving the way she came alive so easily. “You really like football season, don’t you?”

She shrugged. “Football season, basketball season, baseball season . . . it kind of runs in the family.”

“Well, this has been an interesting season of my life, that’s for sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“This house, the kids, all of it.”

“Me too, with the restaurant. It’s like . . . my wishing season, you know? How appropriate that it’s also the name of the house.”

“I know what you mean.”

They watched until the interview ended, then he took his plate to the kitchen sink and washed it. PJ came in as he was drying, leaning against the counter. The woman didn’t sit still long.

“I sure miss Shaundra in the kitchen,” she said. “I wish I could afford her year-round.”

“There you go wishing again.” He traded a smile with her. “Did she tell you she wants to be a chef?”

“No! That’s great. She’s been asking me a lot of questions—I guess that’s why.”

“She just told me yesterday.”

“I’d be happy to sit down with her and go over some options.
A mini career counseling session. There are a few good schools that aren’t too far away, and they have scholarship opportunities.”

He loved when her brown eyes lit up. She was a bit of a roller coaster emotionally, but he didn’t mind. She was full of life, and that was a good thing.

“I think she’s settled on Vincennes, but I’m sure she’d love to talk to you about it. You’ve had a big impact on her.”

“Well, she’s had a big impact on me too.”

Her phone buzzed as she collected her plate from him, and she checked the screen.

He wondered if she’d ever heard from Keaton. He hadn’t shown up again that he knew of, and Cole had kept a pretty close eye out through December.

After returning a text, she slid her phone back into her pocket. “That was Jade. We’re meeting for coffee in the morning.”

“You ever change your number?”

“I did. The day after I, you know, fell apart in my room and blubbered all over your shirt.”

“You didn’t fall apart.”

“I kind of did.”

“Okay, you did.”

They shared a smile. She had the prettiest one he’d ever seen. Wide and bright. He felt a pang as it fell away.

“He hasn’t called or anything, so I’m hoping I’ve heard the last of him.”

Cole tossed the towel on the counter and leaned against the sink ledge across from her. He wondered if she was still having withdrawal pains. She’d said she’d loved him, and clearly he’d broken her heart. The thought pinched him hard. He told himself it was because he didn’t like seeing her hurt.

Yeah, that was it.

“It’s gotten a lot easier,” she said. “I wonder sometimes if it’s really even him that I missed. Maybe I just missed being part of a relationship, you know? Feeling special.”

He nudged her foot. “You are special. You’re my little Sunshine, remember?”

Her eyes smiled before her lips. “Don’t even pretend you meant that as a compliment.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She laughed. “Sure you don’t. You thought I was an annoying chatterbox.”

“And you liked me so much more. You gave me a concussion.”

“That was an accident!”

“You accidentally broke a pot over my head?”

She nudged his foot back. “You broke into my house.”

“With a key.”

Man, he loved the look on her face just now. Eyes shining, flirting almost. No, not almost. Feelings stirred inside like a million happy thoughts buzzing through his veins. He wanted to indulge the feeling. Just for a few minutes. It had been so long since he’d felt this good.

The twinkle left her eye, chased no doubt by the look on his face. He wished he’d kept up the banter instead of going quiet. Although the way she looked at him now wasn’t half bad either, her warm brown eyes meeting his boldly, her lips slightly parted in the remnants of her smile.

“I should probably go,” she said. “I have to be up early.”

Well. He supposed that was that. “I think I’ll turn in too.” He flipped off the TV and lights and followed her toward the door.