Dorie Graham - Espresso In The Morning

Her mother sat in silence, frowning. At last she nodded. “Of course Grey is always welcome with me. I’m doing a little more consulting these days, though. I can work around his schedule for the most part, but I can’t get him until later in the day. He can still go to Becca’s and I can pick him up from there. Just let me know what you decide.”

“Thank you, Mother, I really appreciate it.”

“I’d be happy to see more of him. He’s at a good age,” she said, smiling. “I can even watch him evenings and weekends. You should be going out more, Claire, dating. It isn’t right for you to be single. Both you and Grey could use some male interaction. For obviously different reasons, of course.”

Claire pressed her lips together. “No, I’m not interested in dating and, yes, I agree Grey needs a good male role model,” she said. “I’m working on it. I’m checking into getting him a Big Brother.”

“Really?” Her mother leaned back, arms folded.

“Yes.” Claire said. Would she ever be able to set up another meeting? “Really. Why, what’s wrong with that? I thought you’d be pleased.”

“Nothing, sweetheart—a Big Brother could be a good thing. I just don’t know why Grey needs someone who isn’t family or a friend. What about Kyle? Can’t he spend more time with him? Or how about Ned, my next-door neighbor? His kids are grown and he has more time on his hands than he knows what to do with.”

Why did her mother find fault with everything she did? If Becca had suggested the BBBS, would her mother have been open to it? Claire shouldn’t be resentful when her mother was trying to help. But still...

“I’m perfectly comfortable with the Big Brother program,” she said. “They’re people who volunteer their time to be with kids. They’re well screened. Which is more than I can say for your choice of friends.”

Her mother stiffened at the reference to her former friend, the man she’d admired so much that she’d refused to believe Claire after the attack.

“Phil Adams was an upstanding citizen. He sat on the board of the homeowners association for years and city council wouldn’t have been the same without him.”

Claire stood. “Well, you and I have very different opinions on what constitutes an upstanding citizen, Mother.” She headed toward the screen door. “I’ll drop Grey by after school on Friday.”

CHAPTER SIX

“KEN, IT looks like we’re going to run short on a few supplies before the next shipment,” Lucas said to the older gentleman. “I’m going to make a quick run to get what we need to tide us over.”

“No problem,” Ken said. “I’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone.”

Slipping his jacket on, Lucas pushed through the front door, into the sunlit day. As he patted his pockets for his keys, a familiar brunette rolled into the parking space beside him.

He’d been thinking about Claire since their conversation the other morning. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from giving his opinion about Grey’s need for a role model. And, of course, he’d pushed again about the downtime. As he thought about it, his whole approach to her was colored by Grey’s desire to de-stress their life, but Claire still had no idea Lucas knew about that. She no doubt thought of him as a creep, who stuck his nose in where it didn’t belong. He’d been looking for an opportunity to smooth things over with her ever since.

She slipped out of her car and, thankfully, acknowledged him with a little wave. He returned the wave and smiled. “Welcome back.”

Now that she was here, he had no idea how to dig himself out of the hole he’d dug with her. She stepped onto the sidewalk in front of The Coffee Stop.

“You’re not working this afternoon?” she asked.

At least she was still speaking to him. He again patted his pockets for his elusive keys. “I’m making a quick supply run.”

She nodded and adjusted the shoulder strap of her computer bag. “Well, I’m going to get some work done.”

“Claire,” he said and she paused. “I just want to say I shouldn’t have butted in the other day. You know, harping on you about your schedule and suggesting the Big Brother thing for Grey. I was out of line.”

Again, she nodded, but then stepped closer to him. “It’s okay. You made some valid points.” Her cheeks pinked. “I’m going to look into the Big Brother program. It was a good suggestion.”

She glanced through his car window as he shoved his hands in his pants pockets, still searching for his keys. “Is that what you’re looking for?”

His keys dangled from the ignition.

“Well, that’s no good,” he said and jiggled the door handle to no avail. He walked around the car, checking all the doors. But all of them were locked.

“Do you have a spare set?” she asked.

“I must have had one at some point, but I have no idea where it would be. I guess I’ll call a locksmith.”

She pulled out her own keys. “I think I have a coat hanger in my car, if you want to give that a try first.”

“I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

She opened the passenger door beside him and felt around under the seat, but came up empty-handed. “Hold on.”

She moved to the back door and tried again from that angle. “I’m pretty sure it’s under here.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I don’t mind calling a locksmith.”

“No, I’m sure I have one. It was from some dry cleaning and Grey stuck it under there. Let’s move the seat up.” She climbed into the backseat and leaned over the front, searching for the lever on the left side of the seat.

“Let me get this out of the way,” she said as she grabbed a book bag from between the seats and slung it into the passenger seat.

The contents spilled across the blue upholstery, displaying printed pages marked with yellow highlighter. Lucas hurried to gather the documents, but paused as his gaze fell on one of the highlighted phrases.

PTSD Symptoms: Traumatic Flashbacks

“I’ll get that,” Claire said as she grabbed the papers from his hands.

Before he could comment, she’d shoved everything back into the book bag and resumed fumbling with the lever.

“Let me,” he said and she moved aside to let him pull the lever. The seat slid forward and she was finally able to extract the sought-after hanger.

She didn’t meet his gaze as she handed it to him. “I knew I had one.”

“Claire—” He had so much he wanted to ask her, but the last thing he wanted was to push her again. Was she researching PTSD for herself?

“Why don’t you just keep that?” she said as she closed the back door of her car. “I don’t need it.”

“Okay, thanks.” He wanted to reach out to her, tell her he understood too well what she was suffering—if that was what she was suffering—but at the same time his stomach tightened at the memory of Toby, gaunt and emotionless.

“I’d better get to work. I have a deadline on a contract,” she said, still not making eye contact.

“Sure,” he said. “I didn’t mean to keep you.”

She nodded as she inhaled and straightened. Her gaze met his and as before, it seemed she might say more, but she merely nodded again, and headed into the coffe shop.

* * *

THE SMOOTH TONES of jazz floated through the air a short while later as Claire tried to relax into her favorite chair at The Coffee Stop. She glanced around once more to see if Lucas had returned.

What did it matter that he’d seen the articles she’d printed on PTSD? She had nothing to hide. She was just getting to know the man and if he decided not to pursue their friendship because of them, then she’d count her blessings.

But what if he mentioned the articles around Grey? Even as the question shot through her mind, she chided herself on how foolish she was being.