Hometown Love (Love on the North Shore #2)(8)

“But Da—” Grace started.

“We’ll talk later, Grace. Besides, I thought we were getting donuts.” Perhaps a minor distraction would get her mind off a dog, if only for the night.

Grace’s pout disappeared as if just remembering their initial destination. “Oh, yeah. Can I wait here with Jessie while you get them? My feet are tired.”

He didn’t believe her feet were tired for a second. She just didn’t want to wait in line. “As long as Jessie doesn’t mind.” They would have to sit down and eat somewhere anyway.

Jessie pulled out the seat next to her. “She can stay. I don’t mind.”

“Can I get you anything?” Mack asked as Grace zipped into the chair.

“Just finished some popcorn, but thanks.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Alone, Mack joined the line for donuts. Every once in a while he glanced behind him to check on Grace—not that she noticed. His daughter was too busy talking Jessie’s ear off. The little girl loved to tell stories. And she’d talk to just about anyone, even complete strangers in supermarket checkout lines.

“Decided to join everyone tonight?” Striker asked as he joined the line.

“Yeah, Grace wanted to come.” The person in front of him at the concession table moved and Mack stepped forward. He glanced over the freshly-made donuts. “I’ll take two of the apple cider and two of the powdered, please, Mrs. Mitchell.”

“I was so glad when I heard you were moving in next door, Matthew,” Mrs. Mitchell said.

Although everyone else in his life called him Mack, Mrs. Mitchell insisted on calling everyone by his or her true name.

“Where’s your daughter?” she asked, looking around.

“With Jessie.” He pointed in their direction.

“Grace does love my granddaughter,” Mrs. Quinn chimed in. “If your mom brings Grace to quilting club, she doesn’t leave Jessie alone.”

Mack accepted the donuts, surprised he was hearing about all of this now. To the best of his knowledge, Grace had never mentioned Jessie. Mack moved down the line to pick out drinks and pay.

Before he left Mrs. Mitchell called out to him. “If you ever need anything, please just stop in, Matthew. That’s what neighbors are for.”

Mack nodded.

“And what can I get you, Alfred?” He heard Mrs. Mitchell ask his friend, and for half a second he wondered who she was talking to. He, like just about everyone else in town, had called his friend Striker so long, he’d forgotten his real name.

Next to him, Striker grumbled a response but didn’t correct the old widow. No one in town ever did. Man it’s good to be back.

“Anything else, Mack?” Mrs. O’Brien, who sat with the other two women, asked.

Mack held out a ten. “Two bottles of water, please.”

With a nod, Mrs. O’Brien grabbed two waters from the cooler. “The same goes for me, Mack. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to call or come over.” She handed him his change.

“Thanks.”

Mack waited for Striker to pay for his food and then they walked back toward Jessie and Grace.

“I don’t know why she does that. Not even my mother calls me Alfred.” Striker opened his water bottle.

Mack couldn’t blame his friend. He wouldn’t want to be called Alfred either. “You could always correct her.”

Striker threw him a get-real look.

“Do you want to join us, Alfred?” Mack asked when they stopped at the table.

Striker elbowed him in the ribs. “Another time. Nicole’s waiting for me.” He gestured toward a woman seated at another table.

Mack tried to place Nicole as he put down the food.

“Who’s Alfred?” Grace asked from the other side of Jessie.

“What?”

“Who’s Alfred?” Grace asked again as she reached for a donut.

“Just giving Striker a hard time. His real name is Alfred.” To make the conversation with both his daughter and Jessie easier, he took a seat on the other side of the table.

Grace considered his answer as she started on an apple cider donut. “Why do you call him Striker?”

“It’s a nickname. Like you calling Jessie Jessie, when her real name is Jessica.”

“But Striker doesn’t sound like Alfred. I thought a nickname sounded like your real name.”

He could understand how she’d reached that conclusion. “Sometimes, but not always.”

“Striker is his last name,” Jessie added.

Happy with the answers, Grace fell silent as she munched on her snack.

Before Mack could continue his conversation with Jessie, she raised a hand and waved at someone.


“Maryanne and Kelsey just got here. I’m going to say hello.” She pushed back her chair, prepared to leave. “I know you have your mom and sister to help out, but if you need anything, let me know. I’m always around.”

“Thanks.” Mack watched Jessie walk toward Maryanne and Kelsey, both life-long North Salem residents, and was again surprised by the physical changes in her. Maybe everything in North Salem didn’t always remain the same. Jessie Quinn certainly hadn’t, and he wasn’t the only one who noticed how great she looked tonight. He saw several other guys watching her as she walked away and he understood why.