Chapter 5

Tell him, a voice inside Kaitlyn’s head urged as she stood taking orders behind the counter of the Bean. She barely heard Bing Crosby dreaming of a white Christmas in the background or noticed the festive garland she’d twined with multicolored lights that she’d put up behind the counter. Or the string of cute little plastic snowmen lights blinking above the cash register that all the little kids in their mothers’ arms loved so much.

The Christmasy details were lost on her, with Rafe sitting just feet away having a late-afternoon meet-up with Colton, Eli, and Evan. Occasional laughter burst from the table as the guys discussed…whatever guy-talk they were discussing.

“Hazel’s in the back,” Gwen said, pointing with her thumb, “and I’m almost out of here.” Gwen had been hired as a teenager by her grandfather years ago and knew the shop and the customers inside and out. Which was a blessing. The curse was that she nearly always spoke exactly what was on her mind.

“Is Hazel…okay?” It had been a rough day so far, and Hazel had seemed jittery and full of nerves. On the plus side, though, she’d taken a lot of notes, so she was clearly trying.

“Let’s put it this way,” Gwen said, “I’m thinking of having a cigarette and I haven’t had one in fifteen years.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Mind if I take off a little early?”

“Of course not,” Kaitlyn said. “I’ll be fine.”

In the past, Rafe often stayed after his friends left—sometimes he helped her close down the espresso machine, wash the milk pitchers, and do the other closing tasks, but sometimes they just sat and talked over coffee. But he hadn’t hung out like that since “the incident.” Still, she knew if she asked him to stay, he would. She could sit him down and tell him about the baby.

And then he would freak out.

She steeled herself for his reaction. She was frightened out of her mind but also thrilled beyond belief at the thought of having a baby. Sara had shown her a few blurry, whitish blips and a heartbeat on her office ultrasound machine and had given her the name of an OB in the next town over who would want to do a better ultrasound. But there was no doubt—the baby was there, inside her, growing. It was a mind-boggling miracle.

As if Rafe could sense the intensity of her thoughts, he looked up from his cup of coffee, caught her eye, and smiled.

Something low in her belly flipped. She suddenly realized she’d been wiping off the old Formica counter so vigorously she feared she might’ve rubbed a hole through it. So she made herself stop and gave herself a firm scolding to shut off whatever hormones caused that twinkly, starstruck rush to spread through her. She could do this, fight these wayward feelings. She must train her mind, then her body would follow. Like yoga.

She had to. Because she did not want to be attracted to someone who was into good times and fun and not around for the hard stuff—the real stuff.

Like her father.

She knew firsthand what it was like to want your father to be there when you needed him, and she wanted more for her baby. Even so, she understood why Rafe ran. Why he’d run from any woman—because he was still so torn up about the fiancée he’d lost. She got that. But their baby needed someone who was capable of stepping up.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Mr. Iocona, an elderly man who was one of her regulars, said, walking up to the counter. “I’d like a ham sandwich, please.”

Despite Kaitlyn trying to tempt him with multiple other offerings, Mr. Iocona insisted on ordering the same thing every single day: ham, cheddar, lettuce, and a pickle on a plain white bun.

A terrible thought occurred to her. Rafe was her ham sandwich. The habit she had to break.

“How about a bowl of soup, Mr. Iocona?” Kaitlyn asked—more like shouted so he could hear. “It’s broccoli cheese.”

“You say you want a squeeze?” The old man leaned forward, speaking just as loudly. “Oh, if only I were fifty years younger.”

Gwen, who was bringing more cookies in from the back, rolled her eyes at his comment. She caught Kaitlyn’s gaze as Kaitlyn eyed the bakery case.

“Do not give him another free cookie,” Gwen said.

“I love you too,” Kaitlyn said, blowing Gwen a kiss as she slipped a cookie from the bakery case onto his plate.

“Fine. Why don’t you just give everyone free cookies?” Gwen mumbled.

“Have a nice evening,” Kaitlyn said. “Go to your yoga class. No cigarettes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gwen said. She sounded grumpy, but Kaitlyn didn’t miss her tiny crack of a smile.

Suddenly Kaitlyn became aware that Rafe had joined the line, dressed in his navy Angel Falls Fire Department uniform, his big biceps visible under his short sleeves. He was frowning.

She knew what Rafe was thinking—that she was too nice to all the seniors, and that they mooched too many free cookies from her, but she didn’t look at it that way at all. If she could ease a few people’s loneliness, she’d give away dozens.

“Hey,” he said, giving her a concerned smile.

“Hey,” she said, managing to make her voice neutral. “That puppy sure was cute,” she said, grasping for a neutral topic.

“Yeah,” Rafe said. “I’m sure Jazz will find it a good home.” He scanned her face with careful scrutiny, as if he sensed something was off. It made her nervous.

She nodded and fiddled with the cash register. “Of course.” She gave him only the briefest glance, or else she’d run the risk of getting lost in the warm dark depths of his eyes. No thinking about how his hair, the color of rich, black coffee, had the slightest wave in it—how she’d seen pictures of him as a toddler in a sleeper with bunny feet, his hair a curly riot. An olive-skinned baby with curly dark hair and big brown eyes. That’s what his child—their child—would look like.

She accidentally hit the St. Jude donation jar next to the cash register with her hand, causing it to crash from the counter, change rolling and spilling everywhere.

Oh shh…sugar.

“Are you okay?” Rafe asked, leaning his tall frame over the counter as she scooped change off the floor.

She gave up and stood, fighting a sudden wave of nausea by gripping the countertop.

“You sure you’re feeling all right?” he repeated.

Okay, this had gone on long enough. “Yeah, but we really need to—”

“Hi, gorgeous,” said a deep voice. She looked up to see her ex, Steve, right beside Rafe, who nodded somewhat curtly. The two men were like oil and water. Steve hated that she’d become such good friends with Rafe after their breakup and Rafe…well, he didn’t care for Steve either. Which was odd because Rafe liked just about everybody.

“Steve. Hi.” She cleared her throat. Steve was a super nice guy—the nicest she’d ever dated. Faithful, steady, and solid. Too nice in some ways because he had no…edge. He didn’t make her laugh hysterically or finish her sentences or get her stupid jokes…like Rafe did, of course.

“I’ve got tickets to that weird little indie band you like so much,” Steve said. “They’re coming to the House of Blues this weekend for a holiday concert. Want to go?”

“That’s sweet, Steve, but I’m out of town this weekend.” She knew she should be more direct, tell him more clearly that she wasn’t interested since he kept persisting in trying to get back together. But as usual, she was having trouble finding the words.

“Maybe we could grab dinner before you go.”

“Hey, speed the line up.” Rafe, now in line right behind Steve, was holding up his coffee mug, probably for a refill. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why he insisted on antagonizing Steve, who suddenly turned beet red under his collar.

Steve turned around and glared. “Hey, where’s the fire?” he asked in his most irritated voice.

Now Rafe turned red. “Time-out, coach,” he said, making the time-out sign with his hands, which seemed to anger Steve even more.

When Steve took a step toward Rafe, Kaitlyn knew she had to act. “Okay, Jacob and Edward, enough.”

Rafe burst out into laughter at her silly barb. Steve just looked puzzled.

Kaitlyn hated confrontation—the number of cookies she gave away for free every day proved that. It was probably all the fights her parents had had growing up—terrible, unresolvable ones with lots of yelling and sleepless nights where she and her sister would climb in bed together and cover their ears.

She pulled out two cookies and gave each guy one. “Behave yourselves now,” she said, hoping that would diffuse things. “And please move out of line. People are waiting.”

Suddenly there was a giant crash and a clang as something hit the ground behind the counter. “I suck at this!” Hazel cried. “I never wanted to work here in the first place. I never even wanted to be here. I want to go home!” The girl, in tears, ran through the door leading into the kitchen.

Kaitlyn turned and froze for a second, staring at milk spilled on the floor and spattered over the lower cabinets. In that moment of hesitation, she suddenly found someone at her side—Rafe. He squatted down and picked up a steel milk pitcher.

“Please, let me help.” He grabbed a towel from her hands. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”

What? That was a weird thing to say, but she stepped aside and let him help. “Thanks.”

Suddenly everything felt a little overwhelming. This idea that putting Hazel to work would cure all her ails was far-fetched. Being pregnant was exhausting. Feeling like the world was on her shoulders was too.

“It’s just her first day,” Rafe said.

Kaitlyn dropped her voice. “You heard her. She hates working here. She hates being in Ohio. She’s constantly on her phone and biting her nails and sending me evil looks like I’m the worst aunt in the world. Maybe I am, because I can’t get her to talk to me. I have no idea how to help her.”

She batted back tears as she grabbed another towel and wiped up more of the mess. He walked to the utility closet and came back with a bucket and a mop.

“Thanks for helping,” she said, trying to take the mop, but he wasn’t letting go. “I’ve got it. Go back and sit down with your friends.”

He gently placed his hand back on the mop, their hands grazing. Which sent unwanted zings up her arm. “I have another idea. Let me get the floor and the customers and you go take care of Hazel.”

For a moment they both stood there. Then he slid his hand over hers and squeezed. “Go on.”

“Thanks,” she said, surrendering the mop and walking through the swinging door into the back.

The Bean had been a small restaurant at one point, and it was equipped with a full-service kitchen complete with professional-grade stainless-steel countertops. Hazel was sitting at a small wooden table pushed up against the sidewall, zeroed in on her phone, which sat atop a pile of schoolbooks. Hazel’s work apron dangled halfway off the back of her chair, allowing Kaitlyn to admire the cute green floral jumper she wore with tights and combat boots. The outfit struck her because most days, Kaitlyn’s biggest fashion decision was which sweater to toss on top of her jeans.

“Hey, sweetie,” Kaitlyn said. That was when her mind went blank. Now what should she say? She wasn’t a parent; she had no idea. At one point she moved forward to hug Hazel, but her niece quickly shifted away.

“Look,” Kaitlyn said finally, “I know things might seem jumbled up and a little hopeless.” Now that was something she could relate to. “But things aren’t hopeless. Angel Falls is a great place. People care about each other here. Your family cares about you. We love you.”

Kaitlyn couldn’t help but draw the parallels. Her family loved her as well. So did Rafe’s. Somehow, everything would be okay.

“I can’t do this,” Hazel finally said. “I don’t know anything. Cappuccinos, lattes, macchiatos, espressos. It’s a different language.”

“I thought all teens spoke Starbucks fluently,” Rafe said from the doorway. How long had he been there?

Kaitlyn shot him a frown, but she also bit her cheek to keep from laughing a little.

“I hate it here,” Hazel said. “It’s cold and I have no friends and school sucks.”

“You’re just the new kid right now,” Rafe said, pulling up a seat next to Kaitlyn. “Things will get better.”

Wait…Rafe offering advice? Shouldn’t he be cracking jokes?

“No, you don’t understand,” Hazel said. “I don’t even care about the friend thing because I’ll be gone from here as soon as I graduate. But school really sucks. And I’m flunking my stupid math class.” Tears welled up again.

“I’ll talk with your teacher,” Kaitlyn said, placing her hand over Hazel’s. Her niece flinched and moved her hand away, revealing some kind of flower inked on her wrist. Kaitlyn’s mother would have skewered her if she’d showed up with ink at Hazel’s age. Undeterred, Kaitlyn said, “We can come up with a plan.”

“The plan is I have to pass or I won’t graduate.” Tears were flowing freely now.

“Hazel, I’ll do anything I can to help you,” Kaitlyn said. “We’ll hire a tutor. So you can graduate and plan for college.”

“I’m not going to college,” Hazel said, not making eye contact.

“Maybe we should just focus on passing the class right now,” Rafe said, clearing his throat. “I’m pretty good at math. Why don’t you let me have a look at it?” He turned to Kaitlyn. “Is Hazel done for today? Maybe we’ll go out front and work. Colton always enjoys a challenge.” He gave Kaitlyn a wink.

“Okay,” Kaitlyn said reluctantly. Rafe had an easygoing way about him that Hazel seemed to respond to. Plus she didn’t remember enough algebra to save her life. “Sure.”

By the time Kaitlyn finished cleaning up the mess, Rafe and Colton were battling it out over multiple sheets of paper torn from Hazel’s notebook. Rafe finally took to Googling the type of algebra problem on Kaitlyn’s iPad and, after filling several more sheets of paper, set down his pencil to rake his hands through his hair.

“Ready to call it a day, fireman?” Colton asked.

Rafe picked up the pencil again and cracked a smile. “Not on your life, copper.”

“How many cops and firemen does it take to do a math problem?” Kaitlyn asked, refilling their coffees for the second time.

Rafe looked up and laughed.

She couldn’t help laughing too.

“Too many,” Colton said, tossing his pencil onto the table. “I give up. Let’s call Sara. She’s smart.”

Hazel stood and gathered all the papers. “Thanks, guys, for trying to help. I’ll just go in early tomorrow and ask my teacher. I’m going to head into the back and get the rest of my stuff.”

Colton looked at his watch. “I’m going to take one last cruise through town and head home myself.”

Then it was just she and Rafe across the table. “I know someone who might be a good math tutor,” he said. “Mind if I ask?”

“Sure,” Kaitlyn said. “That would be great. I’m going to speak with Hazel’s guidance counselor. She might have suggestions too.”

“Good idea,” Rafe said.

“I just wish I knew how else to help her. I want to show her that I believe in her. How do I do that?”

Rafe shrugged thoughtfully. “Support her dreams.”

The sensitivity of his remark caught her off guard. “I don’t even know her dreams because she won’t speak to me. She doesn’t trust me. I’m hoping I can get her to loosen up a little when I take her to your parents’ place this weekend. If she’ll go with me, that is.”

“You’re going to the lake house?” His brows lifted in surprise.

Kaitlyn felt her cheeks heat a little. “They invited me. For my birthday.”

“Oh.” He looked surprised. “I have to work. Sorry I’m going to miss it.”

“That’s okay.” She paused and looked him in the eye. “Rafe—I was wondering if you could have dinner with me sometime soon—maybe tomorrow? I thought we could—have a talk.”

He scanned her face, and she swore he went pale. “Okay, sure. How about you come to my place? I’ll cook.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She’d rather talk to him at her place, where she could at least be in her own territory. And not have to drive home alone when things went south. “We could just order pizza.”

“No, I want to cook. I’m off.” He paused. “Is there anything you’ve been craving?”

Craving? Oh God. Did Sara tell him about the baby? No, Sara would never go against her word. Rafe always asked what she wanted to eat when he cooked for her. She needed to get a grip. “No, whatever you want to make is fine.”

Just then Hazel walked out of the back, her satchel of books slung over her shoulder. Her gaze flicked from Kaitlyn to Rafe and back. “I—um—I washed all the pitchers. And the syrup bottles. And sanitized the ice machine. I’m heading out now. See ya!”

Kaitlyn stopped her by calling her name, which made Hazel halt but not turn around. “Are you headed back to Gram’s?” Kaitlyn asked.

“Actually”—she slowly turned around—“I was going to drive out to the quarry and smoke some weed and get wasted.”

“That’s not funny,” Kaitlyn said.

“Don’t you trust me to go home?” Hazel’s tone held a mixture of boredom and outrage, but Kaitlyn could see a glimmer of hurt in her eyes.

Kaitlyn held the line. “I just want to make sure we’re both clear about curfew.”

Hazel crinkled up her nose as if it smelled really rotten in the café. “Curfew?”

“That’s where you’re in by ten thirty on a school night.” Kaitlyn glanced at her watch. “And it’s ten o’clock now.”

“I’m just going to Gram’s, okay?” she said with a slash of irritation. “Call her in five minutes if you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you,” Kaitlyn said, but she could tell Hazel didn’t buy that. “And you may not think this, but you did a good job today. First days are always challenging.”

Hazel shot her a look that was half I don’t believe what you’re saying at all and half Can I leave now?, before she gave a quick wave and scooted out the door. The final slam made Kaitlyn jump.

“Well, I screwed that up,” Kaitlyn said.

“Hazel will be all right,” Rafe said.

One glance at him showed he seemed perfectly confident. “How do you know that?”

One side of his mouth turned up, a move he made when he was about to joke. He tapped his temple with an index finger. “I can see it in her eyes.”

“You sound like Nonna.”

“She’s frustrated and confused, but I think she’s really trying.” He shrugged. “At least, that’s my take.”

“I didn’t mean to act like I don’t trust her, but…I guess I really don’t.” Kaitlyn sighed heavily. “I’m trying to give her structure and discipline. And love. She definitely needs that. But I’m just not really sure what I’m doing.”

“You know what Nonna used to tell us when we were kids.”

“What was that?”

“‘I’m your grandmother, not your best friend.’ I mean, somebody’s got to be a little firm with her. Not me, of course. I’m just here for the comic relief.”

Kaitlyn squinted at him. “Don’t sell yourself short. You were good with her. I’m not exactly getting through to her. She thinks I’m mean.”

“You’re the kindest person I know.” His tone, sincere and steady, melted her.

She scanned his face again—was he joking? Because he nearly always was. Kaitlyn looked away. “I need her to know that life is serious. She has to choose a good path—the right path. If she keeps going on the one she’s on now, she’ll have a terrible life.”

“I agree with all of that.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Parenting sucks. All this reminds me of why I never want kids.”

The warm fuzzy feelings their conversation had stirred suddenly dried up faster than summer dew, and Kaitlyn’s stomach took a leaden plunge.

With that he got up to go, and she didn’t stop him.