Hometown Valentine. Lissa ManleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
He got them their drinks, and very quickly the bell over the door was going off again. Maybe all this business was a sign of busy times to come.
Blake looked up from making a fresh pot of brew and saw Jim Wilson, his foster father, come in, his trademark baseball cap in his hands—he’d always been a stickler for manners. Jim’s gray hair was, as usual, cut military short and neat. He wore a pair of worn jeans and a green windbreaker, and had a large square bandage on his right cheek. Jim was in treatment for a relapse of skin cancer and had just had a biopsy yesterday. Just the thought of losing someone else filled Blake with heartrending grief.
“Hey. What are you doing up and about?” Blake said as Jim headed to the counter. “I know for a fact you’re supposed to be resting.”
“Aw, don’t you start,” Jim said, waving a hand. “Fran’s been all over me to take it easy, and she knows I hate just lyin’ around.” Fran was Jim’s wife of forty years and one of the most wonderful, kindhearted women Blake knew. He’d been blessed with fantastic foster parents. Having no kids of their own, Fran and Jim, Blake’s freshman math teacher, had taken Blake and Anna in out of the goodness of their very big hearts when Blake and Anna’s mom had died of a drug overdose during Blake’s freshman year. Blake and Anna’s dad had walked out when Anna was just a few months old.
“That’s because she cares about you, and because you’re a stubborn old goat when it comes to taking care of yourself.”
“I know. I just needed some fresh air, so I thought I’d come down here and get me a cup of your strongest brew.”
“Coming right up.” Blake turned and went to the special pot of straight black coffee he kept just for all of the older customers who weren’t interested in frothy drinks and just wanted a good old-fashioned cup of hot joe. He poured, expecting to see sludge ooze out at any moment. To each his own.
He set the cup of goo in front of Jim.
As usual, Jim went for his wallet.
“It’s on the house,” Blake said per tradition, waiting for the dialogue that always followed.
“You sure?”
“I’m sure,” Blake said, taking comfort in the reliability of their discussion.
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
“Okay, then.” Jim picked up the cup and drank. He sighed heavily. “Oh, yeah, just what I needed on such a wet, cold day, especially since Fran only serves decaf.”
“You still telling her that’s what I always give you?”
“Maybe,” Jim said with a quirk of his lips.
“If she asks me, I’ll tell the truth.” Blake’s mom had lied to him and Anna all the time about anything and everything; he hated falsehoods, even harmless ones.
“I’d expect nothing less.” Jim looked around. “Place seems busy.”
“Right now,” Blake replied, his jaw tight. Jim knew the business was struggling. Though The Coffee Cabana was the only stand-alone coffee store in town, for some reason the locals weren’t coming in as much as Blake had planned. He did okay in the summer, when the tourist business was good. But it wasn’t enough to sustain the business all year.
“Overall, though?” Jim asked, his blue eyes intent.
“Still not good.” Blake swung around and turned on the sink’s faucet.
“My offer is still open.”
“I’m not taking your money.” Jim had offered a loan a few months ago, and Blake had turned him down then. “You’ve already done enough for me.” Saved his and Anna’s lives, actually. He couldn’t ask for anything more from him and Fran.
“You’re determined to make this place work on your own, aren’t you?” Jim asked, his hands hugging his coffee cup.
“Yes, I am.” Blake turned off the faucet. “I failed once. I’m not letting it happen a second time.”
“I know, I know.” Jim nodded. “I was just hoping that maybe you’d reconsider, especially now that you’ve got Peyton to think about.”
Blake set his hands on the counter and leaned in. “It’s been a challenge, handling her and the store, but I’m going to make it work.” What other choice did he have? He had to do right by Anna and take care of Peyton, and letting go of The Cabana was out of the question.
“You sure you don’t want me and Fran to pitch in?”
“You’re on medical leave fighting cancer, and Fran works full-time.” Fran was a bookkeeper for a local business. “I can’t impose on you.”
“I guess I was just thinking when you moved here we’d be able to help out more.”
“You have helped out, more than anybody else has ever helped me.” Blake went over to the bakery case and grabbed a marionberry muffin, Jim’s favorite, then went back to the counter. “But I have to do this by myself to prove I can succeed on my own.” He pulled a plate out from an undercounter shelf, put the muffin on it and set it down in front of Jim. He just stared at Jim, one eyebrow raised, daring him to try to pay for it.
“I know, but we’d still like to jump in however we can.”
“Not necessary.”
Without saying a word, Jim peeled off the paper liner and took a bite. When he was done chewing, he looked at Blake. “Are you ever going to forgive yourself for what happened in New York?”
“I made a bad call and not only lost all I’d worked so hard for, I also lost some of my clients’ money.” Blake drew in a steadying breath, trying to breathe around the lump forming in his throat. “I’m not sure that’s something I’m ever going to be okay with.” Getting that pink slip had been the bitter icing on the cake.
“You have to forgive yourself before you can move on,” Jim said, his eyes full of empathy.
“I know,” Blake said. This wasn’t the first time he and Jim had had this conversation. “And that sounds easy.” Deceptively so.
“But it isn’t.”
“Right.” Blake had thought rebounding from the debacle of his life in New York would be the most difficult thing he’d ever have to do. Now he realized trying to run a business while being responsible for a baby would hold that place of distinction in his life. Funny how things could turn on a dime.
Jim looked at him over his coffee cup, then put the mug on the counter. “Say, I saw Lily Rogers and Maria De Marco a block up a few minutes ago with to-go cups in their hands.”
“Yes, they were here,” Blake replied.
“I had all of Lily’s siblings in my math class.” Jim had taught freshman math at Moonlight Cove High School since he and Fran had moved here ten years ago to be closer to Fran’s ailing mother. “Liam, Larry, Lydia and Laura. All Ls.”
“She was here applying for the job.”
“Ah,” Jim said, wiping his hands. “Did you hire her?”
“No, I already found someone and hired him.” Blake rubbed at a spot on the counter. “He starts tomorrow.”
“Oh, well, good. Sounds like you have it all worked out,” Jim said.
Right as Jim finished speaking, Jay Wright, the local insurance agent, came in and headed straight for the front counter. He ordered, and as soon as Blake was finished serving him he went back over to Jim.
“Lily came to a couple of Liam and Larry’s parent conferences. She’s a very nice young woman,” Jim said without preamble.
“Yes, she is.” One of the nicest Blake had met here in Moonlight Cove. Not that he’d met many; he didn’t have