The Next Best Thing (Gideon's Cove #2)(103)
“Bye, Jimmy,” I can’t help saying. It’s no use. I’ll never stop missing him.
THAT NIGHT, I DECIDE THAT I CAN’T avoid Ethan forever. I go upstairs, empty-handed, no cake, no custard, no cookies, and knock firmly. There’s no answer. Right. He’s away. I just assumed he’d be back—
The elevator bell dings behind me, the doors slide open and there he is, towing his suitcase. His eyebrows bounce up at the sight of me.
“Hi,” I say. My stomach cramps with nervousness.
“Hi,” he says, taking out his keys. “How are you?”
“I’m good!” I chirrup. “I came to see how you were doing!” I sound like the amped-up host of a children’s show, all cutesy and super-duper friendly. “Feeling okay?”
“All better,” he lies. I can see a shadow of a bruise along his temple.
“Great!” I bleat, apparently unable to sound normal. “Welp—” yes, I say welp “—I just wanted to say hi. Hey, is it true you’re going international? International sales, I mean? With International Foods?” Shut up, Lucy.
He leans against the door frame. “I’m not sure,” he says.
“I was thinking of trying to buy a house, you know?” I say. “Time to be a grownup and all that.” You don’t have to leave, Ethan. I’ll move.
“Sounds good, Luce.” He waits for me to say something else.
“Right. Well, I just wanted to make sure you were okay, Ethan.” It’s when I say his name that my voice cracks. My face grows hot.
“Thanks for checking in,” he says, putting the key in the lock.
“Good night,” I say. “Have a great weekend.” Then, head aching, pebble swelling, I head for the stairs. The sound of his door closing is horribly final.
CHAPTER THIRTY
THE NEXT WEEK, I ONCE AGAIN GET DRESSED UP to meet Matt DeSalvo to sign the papers. It’ll be good, I assure myself as I brush my hair. It’ll save the bakery. I’ll have a career as well as something for the alumni magazine. All good.
At last, the beautiful October weather has given way to November’s bleak promise. Daylight saving time makes November the harbinger of darkness, of cold winds whipping off the water, October’s golden light replaced by something harder and meaner. The sky is a thin, pale blue, the branches skeletal against the sky. Add to that the fact that my dad died in November, and the month just can’t win. Halloween came and went—I went to Nicky’s school for the Halloween parade—Ethan wasn’t there—and had coffee with my nephew and Parker afterward. On Saturday, Ash came over and we watched the Bourne trilogy and ate Ben & Jerry’s. I haven’t wanted to bake anything for a while now.
As I come into Bunny’s, Captain Bob is stealing looks at Mom, and Enid Crosby is pointing to hard rolls. “That one, Rose. No, not that one. Move over one. Yes, that one.” You’d think she was choosing a child from an orphanage. “I hear you’re selling the bakery,” she says to me.
“No, we’re not,” I correct gently. “Our bread will be sold statewide, that’s all. Bunny’s will stay Bunny’s.” Alas. I suppress a sigh, looking at the paltry array of goodies in the case. God knows how many times they’ve been in and out of the freezer. Some of them are probably older than I am. Mrs. Crosby hands me a five, and I make change.
“Hello, ladies,” Matt says, coming in the front door. “What a great day this is for NatureMade.” He smiles broadly, a dimple showing in his cheek.
“Come in back,” my mother says grandly. “We have champagne.”
“It’s eleven o’clock, Mom,” I say.
“So?” She winks.
“Out you go, people,” Iris booms. “Come back later. We have business to do here. Out with you.” She herds our two entire customers out the door, then flips the sign to Closed, and we all head to the kitchen. Jorge is there, too, and starts to head out the back door.
“Jorge, please stay, buddy,” I call. “This affects you, too.”
Matt lays out the contract on the wooden counter. I’ve read the dang thing a hundred times…there’s no downside. There just isn’t.
“I need all four of you to sign, since you’re all part owners,” Matt says, “right here—” he points “—and here…initials there, and finally, here.” He fishes a Cross pen from the pocket of his suit. “Iris, would you like to go first?” Nice, being that Iris is oldest and all that.
My aunts and mother sign, Rose giggling as she can’t seem to find all the spots to sign without Matt standing very close to her and pointing. I think she’s got a crush. Matt seems to read my mind and tosses me a wink.
Low Risk of Early Death. Matt seems healthy. He does have to travel, but it’s all fairly local. Also, he has a Volvo, and we all know that Volvos are basically tanks with slightly better gas mileage. Strong Fatherhood Potential. He likes kids. He said so, anyway. Good heart. Seems to. Not too good-looking. Well, Matt is pretty attractive. Not quite as gorgeous as Jimmy, and lacking Ethan’s naughty appeal (my brain jumps away from the thought of that), but attractive nonetheless. Steady, recession-proof job. I guess so. He’s been with the company for nine years. Nice to my family. Check. Not-too-good sense of humor. Seems like another check mark.