Wanted: The Perfect Mom

CHAPTER FIVE

THE BELL OVER the door jingled.

Mac’s large frame blocked her view of the door, yet Holly breathed a sigh of relief at the interruption. Until the person walked up to the counter.

“Are you busy?” Her father glanced from her to Mac and back again.

Holly wiped sweaty palms on the front of her apron. “Hi, Dad. What brings you here?”

Ignoring her question, Fritz faced Mac. The two men were about the same height. Chin thrust out with a hint of challenge, the older man eyed the younger.

Mac stretched out his hand. “Good morning, Mr. Hoffman. Nice to see you.”

Fritz’s hand came up slowly, then tightened around Mac’s. “Chief.”

The refrigerator pump kicked on. A batch of ice crashed down into the ice machine. Holly looked from one man to the other. A current sizzled between them.

Holly wasn’t sure what was going on, but she couldn’t let it continue. “Do you want a cup of coffee to go, Mac?”

Her father finally released Mac’s hand and, without a word, wandered over to the alcove.

Mac watched him go, and then lowered his voice. “No more coffee today, thanks, but before I go I wanted to mention something. Remember the day you ran into me coming out of The Cookie Jar?”

Holly’s eyes narrowed. “Are you referring to the day you tripped over the flowerpot?”

Mac threw a half grin her direction before continuing. “Anyway, the day we ran into each other, Sue asked me to come in because she thought she was missing some things.”

Her arms erupted in goose bumps. Sue couldn’t afford to miss anything. If Sue went out of business, Holly might, too. “Missing what things?”

Mac glanced toward the pastry case. “Well, she thought somebody was taking baked goods.”

Holly followed his gaze. She suddenly realized nobody was taking inventory of her own baked goods. She could be missing food and not even know. “Is she missing anything else?”

“She left her change at the store a couple nights last week and took the cash upstairs. When she came down in the morning the drawer was cleaned out. I looked around but saw no sign of a break-in.” He slid his empty cup across the counter. “Have you noticed anything missing?”

Holly motioned toward the cup. “My mug inventory is dwindling. But they’re not stolen, they’re kind of borrowed long-term. When the store is crowded, people take their coffee out on the porch and then keep right on going.”

“I’m sure they’ll all plead innocent. You should charge them for the cup when they buy coffee.” Mac chuckled. “Maybe Sue put the change somewhere and then forgot. She hasn’t been herself since, well, you know.” He glanced toward the alcove where her father could be seen looking out the window. “I wanted to give you a heads-up about the possible thefts.”

She set her cup next to his. Mac caught her arm. Her skin tingled where his warm hand wrapped around her forearm. Looking up, she saw concern in his eyes.

“Just be careful, okay? I got notice this morning someone robbed the bank’s branch office in Shadow Falls. That’s fifty miles from here but still, who knows what’s going on? The culprit might be one person, or a gang.”

Holly licked her dry lips and said, “Don’t worry, Chief, I can take care of myself.” She pulled out of his grasp and rounded the counter. Pausing across from him, she reached for the empty cups.

Mac wrapped his fingers around her wrists. “I’m sure you can, but all the same, I’ll have Moose Williams stop by every once in a while, just to see what’s going on.”

The touch of his warm hand sent tingles up her arm and managed to scramble the neurons in her brain. She met his gaze and, like one of her many tumbles from the back of her horse, found herself unable to breathe.

Between Mac’s touch and her father’s unexpected appearance, Holly’s brain seemed to be misfiring. Her father chose that moment to return. His gaze lighted on Mac’s hands circling her wrists. Holly pulled her hands back across the counter. “Would you look at that? I forgot to uncover the pastries.”

“Thanks for the coffee, Holly. I’ll see you around.”

Mac disappeared through the door with a jingle. Silence returned to the coffee shop. Fritz strolled around the tables, walked past the shelves of books and then returned to the counter. “I can’t believe what people pay for a cup of coffee these days.”

“What was that about?” Holly tossed the wrappings in the garbage.

“What do you mean?”

“That thing with Mac. You looked like two big dogs, sizing each other up.”

Her father chuckled. “Ask him.” He studied the menu board. “I remember when coffee was a quarter.”

Holly took a deep breath. Looking down at the embroidered flower on her apron, she let out the air slowly. “Well, you’re in luck. You get the family discount.”

Her father shot her a look. “Discount? I figured I’d get coffee for free.” He finally smiled.

Holly reached for a ceramic mug and then hesitated. “Did you want your coffee to go?” Although her father’s first visit to her new coffee shop was a momentous occasion, she couldn’t imagine he actually planned to hold a conversation.

“Well, I do have a project back at the house.” He glanced at the pastries in the case. “Oh, what the heck. I can spare a couple minutes. Go ahead. I’ll take one of those bear claws, too. Sue is quite the baker. She’s probably half the reason you get people in here, just for her baked goods.”

Holly shook her head. She didn’t bother to remind her father that if people wanted the baked goods they could walk down the boardwalk, buy a box and take them home. The Wildflower provided a destination with ambience. She set the cup on the counter, then retrieved a bear claw from the case.

Carrying her father’s order to the low table, she set down the coffee and pastry and sat, waiting for her father to finish his inspection.

Her dad settled into the chair opposite and picked up his cup. He sipped, set down the cup and forked off a bite of the breakfast treat.

“Do you like the coffee?” Holly had spent days finding the perfect blend for her signature coffee, with just the right amount of acidity and strength. She was proud of her creation.

Fritz held the cup under his nose and sniffed. “Strong.”

Holly pursed her lips, biting back the immediate retort that came to mind in favor of a more diplomatic answer. “The proper terminology is bold.”

“If you say so.” Fritz stared out the front window. “I still can’t believe people in this town will pay the kind of money you’re asking, especially when so many are out of work.”

“Thanks for the encouragement, Dad.”

He finally looked directly at her. “Encouragement has nothing to do with it. You either make it or you don’t. You have to understand business.”

“You don’t have a business degree. Sonny and Thomas don’t have degrees.” Leaning forward, Holly propped her elbows on her knees and clenched her hands into fists. It took everything she had not to blow up at the man. “Are you afraid I won’t pay you back at the end of the year?”

Fritz set down the cup with a clatter. “I have to stop at the hardware store.” He wrapped the half-eaten pastry in a napkin and shoved the package into his shirt pocket. “Thanks for the coffee.”

And ten minutes after he showed up at her shop for the first time, Holly’s father disappeared out the door.

Holly dropped her head in her hands. What happened to the father she knew and when had he become so darn difficult?

* * *

BEFORE LONG, MAC was stopping at The Wildflower every morning for a cup of Holly’s special blend. The caffeine helped him function and he was supporting a local business. Right?

He didn’t know if his simple apology would be enough, but her animosity had lessened. So he arrived promptly at seven, got a mug of coffee and chatted with whoever was working. Sometimes her mother, sometimes Louise and sometimes Carolyn stood behind the counter while Holly busied herself in the kitchen or storeroom. On Saturday mornings, Holly would sit with him and share a coffee and the local news. Then he would grab a coffee to go and continue about his day.

The Friday before Memorial Day weekend, Mac paid for his coffee and ran into Chris Hoffman on his way out the door.

Chris slapped his shoulder. “Hey, man, long time no see.” Tall, thin, with stylishly cut jet-black hair, the thirty-year-old turned as many heads now as he did in high school.

“Look at you,” Mac said, “you’re the poster boy pilot.” He gripped Chris’s outstretched hand. “Where have you been, Chris? Or should I say, where haven’t you been?”

“Flying right seat with the big boys. I just got back from LA.” Chris laughed as he shut the door and looked around the shop. “I’m on a ten-day break and I thought I’d check out baby sister’s business venture.” He turned at the sound of the kitchen door banging open. “There she is—the family entrepreneur.”

Holly paused when she caught sight of Mac and Chris. Just a few days ago she would have been irritated at the sight, remembering how often Mac had inserted himself between her and her closest brother. But since Mac’s disclosure, she’d started to let go of that old hurt.

“Hey, bro, welcome home.” She shot a look at Mac. “Good morning, Chief McAndrews.”

Mac smiled and said, “Good morning, Ms. Hoffman.” He tore his gaze from Holly’s bright green eyes and slapped Chris on the back. “Let’s get together while you’re home.” He reached for the door.

Chris’s face lit up. “Why don’t you join the family Monday afternoon at the farm? Thomas is burning burgers.”

“Sounds good, Chris. I look forward to catching up.”

“And bring your mom and your little girl.”

The words were a bucket of ice water on his thoughts of spending time with Holly away from the shop. “Mom is on a bus trip and my, um, Riley is still in North Carolina with her grandparents.”

“Another time, then.” Chris grinned.

Without a backward glance, Mac left the coffee shop and paused on the porch, taking a deep breath of the cool morning air. The tempting aroma of fresh-baked bread reached him and he glanced down the boardwalk toward The Cookie Jar. There had been no more instances of disappearing change or baked goods. Maybe Sue had been confused, after all.

Across the street, Tom Johnson waved as he got out of his car and walked toward the bank. “Beautiful day, Chief,” he said.

Mac nodded and held up his cup in a wordless salute. Tom disappeared into the bank, locking the door behind him. No banker’s hours for Tom, Mac mused as he clattered down the steps to his police car. He didn’t regret coming back here. Bear Meadows was made up of good people, salt of the earth. But he had no social life. Any high school friends had either moved on or were busy with families, as he had once been. He pushed thoughts of his daughter out of his mind. Her grandparents would entertain his daughter over the holiday better than he ever could. He liked talking to Holly, but she scared him. She always had. Mac backed out of the parking space.

He took a swig of coffee and headed toward Shadow Falls for a visit with their police chief. The bank branch had been robbed again the previous day, only this time the culprits, a man and a woman, were caught on a surveillance camera. Seemed like the perfect distraction.

* * *

“WHEN DID YOU get in?” Holly wiped the counter, where a dried glob of chocolate syrup resisted her efforts. Mac’s daughter didn’t live with him. Interesting. He must know as much about childcare as she did.

“Late last night. We’re staying in the Daffodil room.”

Holly paused. “I never took Valerie for the B-and-B type. For a woman you met over a glass of pinot noir at the San Francisco Airport, I’m surprised you convinced her. How does she like sleeping in a room where everything is yellow?”

Chris settled onto the stool at the end of the counter. “The Jacuzzi Dad installed makes up for the over-the-top cheerfulness. And she wanted the baby to be around her grandparents. Harley just started to walk last week.” He leaned on the counter. “You don’t mind my asking Mac to come over, do you? You two weren’t exactly friendly back in the day.”

Holly frowned as the last trace of chocolate disappeared into her cloth. Chris had been home with chicken pox the day Mac had turned Holly into a laughingstock in gym class. He had never mentioned the incident and she doubted any of his friends dared to tell him about it. “He made some comments I wasn’t happy about.”

Chris shrugged. “We were kids. Boys pick on girls. That’s our raison d’être.”

Holly sighed, feigning nonchalance. “In response to your question, no, I don’t mind. The more, the merrier.”

“Good,” he said. “Is your business doing well?”

“Her business is doing as well as can be expected. She’s only been open a month.” Carrying a plate of cookies, Rose came out from the kitchen and kissed her son on the cheek. “Was your room to your liking?”

“Great, Mom,” Chris said.

“Good.” Rose patted him on the shoulder. “Your sister works too hard. She hasn’t done anything fun since she left the military.”

“Well, that was fun. Leaving the military, that is.” Holly shared a smile with her brother.

“You know what I mean. Movies, shopping, going out to dinner.” Her mother opened the pastry case and added cookies to the plates inside.

“How do you know?” Holly paused in her cleaning and eyed her mother. “I have lots of fun.”

Emptying the plate of cookies, her mother straightened and closed the pastry case. “I know you’re either here or in the attic.”

“You make me sound like an eccentric aunt.” Chris looked pointedly at the top of her head. Lifting one hand, Holly discovered Carolyn’s hair clip attached to her short hair. Belatedly she remembered finding the clip in the kitchen and sticking it in her hair while she unloaded the dishwasher. She sighed and changed the subject. “Let me guess. You want a—” she stared up at the ceiling as she analyzed her brother’s espresso preference “—skinny amaretto latte, affogato style.”

Chris pursed his lips and said, “Sounds good.” Their mother filled the containers on the condiment counter. “You know, Mom has a point. All work and no play... What happened to the woman who took spur-of-the-moment vacations in Mexico?”

Holly groaned as she took a mug off the top of the espresso machine. She pulled a container of milk from the fridge. “I’ve had enough trips to last a lifetime.”

“Don’t you miss the traveling?”

“Sometimes.” Holly peered around the machine, eyes flitting from her mother to the temperature gauge on the steaming milk. She moved the wand so the burbling grew louder and she raised her voice. “What would Valerie like, Chris? I’ll make her a drink.”

“She’s a simple woman, Holly. Just make her a double shot skinny vanilla latte. And don’t think I didn’t notice—you’re trying to get rid of me already. But I think I’ll enjoy the ambience of your little coffee shop before I head back. Valerie won’t be up for another hour, at least.”

“Who’s watching the baby?”

“Dad.”

Grinning at Chris calling his stylish wife a “simple woman,” Holly set the cup on the counter. “One skinny amaretto latte, affogato style.” At the same time she wondered how her brother had persuaded her busy father to babysit.

Chris reached for the cup, eyebrows raised. “Nice, sis.” He sipped the frothy drink. “Good job. Thank you.”

Holly flashed her brother a smile and breathed a sigh of relief. Chris had traveled as much as she. His approval was a good sign.

Chris wrapped his fingers around the brown mug and took another sip. “So, Mom, what do you suggest we do to get Holly out of her rut?”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake...” Holly muttered, reaching for the peach tea bags.

“It would be nice if you had a date with some young man but that doesn’t seem to be happening.” Rose sprayed the front of the display case with glass cleaner. Ripping off some paper towels, she attacked the glass.

“Whatever happened to Nick?” Chris asked.

Pouring milk into the pitcher, Holly glanced at her brother. “I told—”

“He was such a nice man,” her mother continued as if Holly hadn’t spoken. “Polite and so handsome in his uniform.” She turned back to the display case and spritzed the other side.

Chris strolled toward the bookshelves, his voice rising as he walked away. “I don’t think he tripped Holly’s trigger, Mom.”

“Hel-lo-o. I’m standing right here.” Holly lifted the milk to the steamer wand and soon the burbling filled the room. Nick. He had looked good in his dress blues. Great build, dark brown hair, brown eyes, flashing white teeth. He could have posed for a recruitment poster. They both could have, which was the root of the problem. Nick wanted a military wife. Too bad she didn’t realize the truth until she had invested four years of her life. Men and their motives.

“Maybe she can go shopping with Valerie while you’re home,” her mom said. “All she wears are air force T-shirts.”

“All I need are air force T-shirts.” The burbling ceased as she pulled the milk pitcher from the wand.

“My point exactly.”

Annoyed at the ongoing discussion of her personal life, Holly ripped open the box and tea bags flew across the counter and landed in the sink. Throwing the destroyed box in the trash, she shot her mother a look. “Mother, stop. I don’t need fun. I don’t need dates. I don’t need clothes. I need to stay in business so Dad can’t walk in here and say ‘I told you so.’”

Her mother stood openmouthed in front of the pastry case, paper towels in one hand and spray bottle in the other. Her brother leaned on the end of the counter, staring into his coffee mug.

“Methinks she doth protest too much,” Rose said and disappeared into the kitchen.

Gathering up the scattered tea bags, Holly added six to a pitcher of hot water and set the timer, irritation prickling between her shoulder blades. Maybe she shouldn’t have returned home. All this familiarity was getting on her nerves.

Between her confusing reaction to having Mac’s hands around her wrists, her father’s lack of enthusiasm and her mother’s insistence that she have fun, Holly had had about all she could take.

She reached for the nonfat milk for Valerie’s skinny latte. The sooner Chris went on his way, the better. Then her mother wouldn’t have anyone with whom to discuss Holly’s private life.

Holly pumped sugar-free vanilla into the cup, pulled two shots of espresso and added the milk, steamed extra hot to survive the short trip home. “One double shot skinny sugar-free vanilla latte, extra hot, brother.” She set the cup in the center of the counter and smiled.

“Okay, I’m leaving.” Chris waved a paperback novel in the air. “Borrowing.”

“Bye.” Holly threw the bar towel on the counter and shook her head.

Chris opened the door, then turned and threw her a sympathetic grin. “Hang in there, sis. You’ll be fine.”

CHAPTER SIX

ON MEMORIAL DAY, Holly closed the shop at noon. It’s fine, she told herself, everyone’s having picnics or spending the weekend at the lake.

Heading for her own family picnic, she shoved some stale cookies into a tin, hurried home and changed into a pair of old shorts and an air force T-shirt. Then she loaded her mother’s cooler packed with salads into the trunk of her tiny sports car.

“Ready, Mom?” Holly stood at the kitchen door of the bed-and-breakfast. One thing about her mother: she didn’t hold grudges. Their earlier disagreement was forgotten as they gathered supplies for the afternoon picnic at the farm.

Rose glanced around the kitchen and held up one finger. “Let me grab a book, in case I get a minute to myself.”

Holly went out to the wide back porch and sank onto the swing. Bright green tufts of lettuce grew in her mother’s kitchen garden, along with a few shoots of just emerging onions. Brilliant pink peonies, blossoming in full glory, lined the paved walk leading to the gazebo in the far corner of the yard. Holly breathed in their heady scent.