“I have to finish out the school year,” Cal said.

“I’m not ready to handle this on my own,” she said. “I don’t think I have another six months of emergency calls, trips to the hospital, meal preparation, and running over there two or three times a day.”

Cal brought his hand to his neck and massaged. “Let’s hire someone to live in.”

“And where are we going to find someone we trust?” she asked.

“Rachel, you know, Dad’s nurse at the hospital. She said she would help.”

“It’ll be expensive,” Heidi said.

“He has the money.” Cal didn’t know his father’s total worth, but he knew there was plenty. Cal Sr. would never go broke.

“He won’t want to pay,” Heidi said.

“You’re his POA for finance. Talk him into it. Remember when you wanted the hundred and eighty dollar prom dress?”

“You remember that?” Heidi asked.

“I cowered in my bedroom. You two had a heck of a fight.”

“I got the dress,” Heidi said.

“You can talk him into anything.”

She was silent for a few moments, then asked, “When are you coming back?”

“I’ll drive up Friday night,” Cal said. “And I’ll come home every weekend until we have someone living in.”

“Don’t get too close to your new friend,” Heidi said.

“She’s not interested that way.”

In spite of their extended phone conversations the last few nights, and his helpless hoping for more, Bryony had expressed no interest other than friendship. She would stay in Fieldstone and bake pies. He would return to Cleveland and help his sister help their father.

“Will you call Rachel and arrange to have an aide?” Heidi asked.

“Sure.” Until he could be there in person, he would do what he could to help from a distance.

“When you call her, why don’t you set up a date for next weekend? Dad liked her.”

Cal chuckled. His sister was so predictable. “You want Dad to date Nurse Rachel?”

“That’s not funny,” Heidi said. “Ask her out.”

“I should ask her out because Dad likes her?”

“She’s nice, Cal.”

“I’ll think about it,” Cal said.

They ended the call, and he polished off the pie before opening his phone again and deliberating.

Rachel’s last name was Gebhart, and her contact information sat right on top of Bryony’s on his “G” list. He should call Bryony first, to thank her for helping out with Bailey and Buggy. He thought about their wonderful conversations, about his desire to have them become a nightly habit. But, he reminded himself, she had been firm in her decision to be his friend, nothing more. To try to convince her otherwise would be rude.

Sooner or later he had to call Rachel. Heidi was moving toward burnout, and his father’s care needs would only increase, but the call would signal something more than just a business transaction. Rachel had gone out of her way to show interest in him. She was attractive, intelligent, actually quite appealing.

The ear worm started up again. Should he stay, or should he go?

He looked one more time at Bryony’s number and selected the contact above it.

CHARITY FOR BRYONY

BeanHereNow welcomed customers to the holiday season with a nativity scene for those celebrating Christmas, a Kinara with red, black, and green candles for those celebrating Kwanzaa, and a menorah with white candles for those celebrating Chanukah.

When a young man sporting a T-shirt reading God is Dead asked, “What do you have for the atheists?” Lillian replied, “All the love in my heart and everywhere that is not decorated.” The young man’s countenance softened, and he paid it forward for the customer behind him.

Bryony loved working in the coffee shop.

Even the sight of Cal standing in front of the counter failed to dull her mood.

“Christmas will be here soon,” he said. “Do you have all your presents wrapped?”

Bryony pushed his latte across the counter and smiled. “I haven’t finished buying them.”

She had hoped to have a reason to buy something for him, but when he returned after Thanksgiving, he seemed distant. The short set of daily phone calls while he was in Cleveland had ended with no explanation. He had sent a sweet note with a gift card in the mail to thank her for helping out with Bailey and Buggy.

Barely recovered from the embarrassment of sleeping in his bed, imagining a future with him, Bryony marveled at her ability to face him without blushing. “I have good news,” she said.

His eyes lit up and, for a moment, the old Cal was back. “What is it?”

“Lillian and I plan to merge my pie business with the coffee shop. We’re going to expand into the next building.” She filled him in briefly. A friend’s mother-in-law owned the building next door and had offered it for a hard-to-beat price. Mr. Parker’s brother, an architect, had drawn up a preliminary plan. A regular customer helped price equipment and other start-up costs.

“I’m so happy you’re going after what you want.” Cal sounded supportive, like a teacher, like any caring person, but not like someone who would be around to celebrate when the shop opened.

She wanted to go after him, too, but, “I’m thrilled,” was all she could get out before Charity Henderson walked in the door and headed straight for the counter.

“Hey, Cal. How’s commuting back to Cleveland every weekend? How’s your father doing?”

“Cranky,” Cal said. “We’re shoring up his care so he can stay home as long as possible.”

“Good luck with that!” Charity said. “We struggled to find the right person when I needed help with Chuck.”

“We’re ahead of the game,” Cal said. “Dad met a nurse when he was in the hospital right before Thanksgiving, and she’s taken a special interest in him.”

“We all need someone with a special interest.” Charity turned to include Bryony in the conversation. “I want to apologize to both of you for suggesting Susie Q could help either of you in any way. She’s more bluster than business. Always has been. Anyway, she’s gone off to California now, so good luck to her there.” She pulled off her gloves and laid them on the counter.