Lisa Jordan - Lakeside Family

“Try being patient. Would you like me to go buy you another paper?” She pointed to the yellow paper box outside her shop.

“Harrumph. Now, that would be a waste of money, wouldn’t it?” He hobbled over to one of the armchairs near the fireplace and eased his body onto the cushion. Dropping his hat on the side table, he laid his cane on the floor and glared at Nick.

Agnes opened the small fridge under the espresso machine for the milk. “Why do you put up with that codger’s attitude?”

“He’s lonely and all bark but no bite. If griping at me makes him happy, I can turn the other cheek. Today’s a rough day for him.” Josie warmed a banana nut muffin and slipped a blueberry one into a small paper bag. She carried both to Emmett, who sat tapping his pen against the arm of the chair.

“Here’s your muffin. And a little something for later.” She handed him the white bag.

He eyed the bag. “What is it?”

“A blueberry muffin.”

His shoulders slumped. “Elsie’s favorite.”

She crouched beside him and patted his hand. “Rough day, huh?”

“Forty-eight years.” He traced the plain gold band embedded in his finger while gazing into the fire. “She was my everything. I miss her.”

She squeezed his hand, feeling his pain. “I know.”

He pressed his lips against her knuckles. “Thanks for the extra muffin.”

“Anything for you, Emmett.” Josie patted his cheek.

The phone rang, but Agnes snagged it. She covered the phone with her hand. “Josie, Billy Lynn’s on the phone asking about his doughnut order?”

Josie left Emmett and hurried to the counter. “Doughnut order?”

The words were no sooner out of her mouth when she spotted the pink sticky note reminding her about the six dozen doughnuts requested by the fire department. That was the baking thing she was forgetting. She sighed and resisted the urge to bang her head against the pastry case. If she hadn’t overslept, the doughnuts would be ready and waiting by now.

She reached for the phone. “Hey, Billy. This is Josie. I’m running behind today. When’s the latest I can get them to you?”

“Would noon be pushing it?”

Eyeing the clock, she did a mental calculation. “No, I can handle that. Again, I’m sorry.”

“Bring me a cup of that Almond Toffee Crunch coffee and I’ll forgive you, Dollface.”

“I’ll bring you a whole pot.”

“Josie!” The alarm in Agnes’s voice sent ice through Josie’s veins.

Hannah!

“Billy, I gotta go.” She sprinted through the swinging kitchen door. The kitchen was empty. “Agnes? Hannah? Where are you?”

“The storeroom. Hurry your fanny in here.”

Josie hurried past her office to the storeroom near the back door. Her nose wrinkled against a musty, sulfur smell. Gross.

She rounded the corner to find Agnes and Hannah staring at the ceiling. She followed their gazes. Her stomach plummeted to her toes. She groaned and slumped against the doorjamb. “Oh, no! Oh, please no. Not now. Not this.” Josie squeezed her eyes shut, counted to ten in Italian—uno, due, tre, quattro, cinque, sei, sette, otto, nove, dieci—and then opened her eyes, praying what she saw had been a mistake. Or a trick of the eyes.

No such luck.

A section of the ceiling in the storeroom hung down like an escape hatch. Soaked drywall, exposed beams and floor joists and dripping insulation drooped from the damaged area. Water droplets beaded along old iron plumbing pipes. Blackened puckers stretched along the seams in the upstairs apartment’s wooden floor.

The drain in the floor gurgled as dripping water spiraled into the circular grate. Most of her baking supplies had been stored in airtight plastic containers, so at least they were spared. But looking at the gaping ceiling again, she could almost see the money flowing out of her bank account. Okay, God, a cork would be nice. So much for paying this month’s mortgage on time.

* * *

Nick grabbed his cell phone and checked the time. He hadn’t seen Josie in a while. Had she forgotten they planned to talk at 8:30, which was ten minutes ago? Maybe she was ticked because he had shown up so early, but hey, a guy can count the ceiling tiles in his hotel room only so long. Nothing good on the tube this early in the morning, anyway, so he headed in to get a cup of coffee. Besides, he had an idea to discuss with her about Hannah.

Seeing Hannah with her nearly caused his legs to give out. The child looked more like she was six or seven than close to ten. Josie didn’t seem thrilled to see him, but what was he expecting? A hero’s welcome? A loving hug? Not going to happen. Especially since she thought he had bailed all those years ago.

“Finished with that plate, Sugar Pie?”

Nick looked up from scanning the Knicks score to find the same redhead who nearly slipped on the icy walk standing next to him. He smiled. “Yes, thanks.”

She grabbed the plate and sashayed back to the kitchen. No other way to describe her walk.

Some old guy kept giving him the evil eye. He had been minding his own business, reading the paper. Giving a mental shrug, he returned to the sports section to finish reading the highlights of last night’s game. Or at least pretend to.

About half an hour ago, Hannah came out of the kitchen and settled at a corner table with her nose in a book. She didn’t take her eyes off the page, but Nick couldn’t keep his eyes off his daughter. The way she bit her lip reminded him of Josie. If Hannah had hair, would she twirl a curl around her finger the way her mother did?

Maybe he could go over and talk to her.

That would send Josie through the roof. Besides, he didn’t want to risk upsetting the child. He had to do something, though. Sitting here was driving him nuts. He folded the newspaper, set it on the counter and moved off the stool to head for the kitchen. If she didn’t come to him, he’d go to her.

The old man who had been giving him the evil eye appeared at his side. “Mind if someone else takes a gander at the paper?”

“Have at it.” Nick pushed it toward him.

The man shuffled through the pages until he found what he had been looking for. “Hey, you did the crossword! In pen. I don’t believe it.”

“Is that a problem?”

“I do the crossword. Every morning at 7:15, I get a coffee, a banana nut muffin and then do the crossword until it’s time to visit my son.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll head outside and buy you a new paper.” Nick grabbed his coat.

“Don’t bother. No time now. The morning’s been disrupted enough.” The man shoved the paper back onto the counter.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Josie come from the kitchen. He put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I am sorry. I promise not to touch the crossword again. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

He strode to the counter to catch her before she pulled another disappearing act. She wasn’t hiding because of him, was she?

She spun away from the register and pushed open the swinging door, but Nick caught her elbow. She whirled around to face him.

“Nick.”

“We were supposed to talk. Remember?”

She shot a glance at the clock and then sighed. “Oh, that’s right. I’m so sorry. It’s been a crazy morning. Listen, I’m not trying to blow you off or anything, but I have a major water leak to deal with, a doughnut order to rush and then I have to take Hannah to the doctor at two. Can we talk later?”

“Where’s her doctor?”

“A couple of blocks from here. Dr. Kym.”

“I have an appointment at 11:30, but I could meet you at the doctor afterward.”

“That’s not necessary.” She cast a glance toward Hannah and then edged toward the still-open kitchen door.