“Where are you going?” Susie asked.
“I think we’re done here.”
As he walked out the door, Susie called out, “Do you want to go out later, grab a drink?”
Cal didn’t answer.
He was thinking about a surprise he’d been preparing for Bryony, and he had a lot of thinking to do about something else, too, something unexpected, potentially life changing.
Being home over the weekend, seeing the love between his sister and Mark, between his nieces and their spouses, confirmed what he had been coming to for weeks, and now he was torn between his family and the woman he loved.
Yes, he knew that now. He loved the woman with flaming cheeks and auburn hair.
They’d only been playing at dating up to this point. And she certainly seemed ambivalent about him at times. But when he thought about his overall experience with her, he realized that he wanted to give the idea of them being a couple a real shot. Because he’d never met anybody who made him happier, or more agitated, or more willing to forgive, or—most of all—more ready to settle down, wherever and however that might happen.
He simply wanted to be with Bryony Green.
No one outside of his family of origin had ever factored into his life plans, and now Cal couldn’t think about next year without including her somewhere, somehow. Should he plan to stay and find another teaching position in or near Fieldstone, or go back to Cleveland, where he belonged in every way possible with the exception of Bryony?
He needed to talk to her, to know where she stood, what she wanted.
Should he stay, or should he go?
BRY BACKS OFF TO BAKE
By Tuesday morning, Bryony was convinced. Falling in love with Cal had been a mistake. Chances were Cal was already having second thoughts about her anyway. He hadn’t tried to call again over the weekend until Sunday night. When she had listened to his voicemail, she wasn’t surprised he canceled their date.
And so she had made up her mind. As in the past, Bryony needed to pull up her big girl pants and move forward on her own.
Avoiding him at the coffee shop would be a breeze, as she had demonstrated to herself on Monday. She could soldier on through the rest of the school year until he was gone. Supervision for Todd could be accomplished on the phone or on paper.
But she knew Cal was not the kind of man to quietly disappear. He would want to establish something he might refer to as closure. He would think he owed her that. She owed him that, too, she supposed, sooner or later, her preference being later. But later came sooner than expected because Bryony could not refuse his late Tuesday afternoon invitation for a walk after Lillian had ordered her to, “Take off for an hour and talk to the man.”
Cal helped her into her coat and asked, “Ready?”
She faced him. “Where are we going?”
“Not far.”
He held the door, and Bryony stepped out into the quiet downtown.
She needed to tell him, tell him now, in a way he would understand, a practical way. She had too much on her plate. She needed time, space, distance.
“Cal, I’ve been thinking,” she started.
He shushed her. “I do want to hear what you’ve been thinking, but first I want to show something to you.”
Bryony put her hands in her pockets and looked at him. “Okay.”
“First stop, the coffee shop,” he said.
“We just walked out of the coffee shop.”
“Yes, but I want you to see what’s on the outside.” He walked to the edge of the building and began to speak like a tour guide. “This building was erected in 1890, making it the second oldest building downtown, the oldest being the courthouse. A man named Robert Fieldstone designed this building to house his dry goods store. Robert was the great grandson of the town’s founder.”
Stepping to the side, he pointed to the metal plaque and asked her to read it.
Screwing up her face into a silent request for knowing what the heck was going on, Bryony read the plaque. “Where’s Robert’s name? It says the building was built for Charles A. Smith & Co.”
“Robert’s name isn’t there,” Cal answered, “because after he bought the land and designed the building, he lost a load of money in the financial panic of 1884. Due to those losses, he lacked the capital to build, so he sold the land and design to Smith.”
“How do you know all this?” Bryony asked.
“One of my students researched the town’s financial history,” Cal said. “I learn far more from my students than they learn from me. If I want to learn about something, I make up an assignment. My students come through every time.”
“If you say so,” Bryony said, smiling. She couldn’t help herself. Cal reminded her of every PBS show she had ever seen, including those with Barney and Elmo.
“Robert went on to open a small hotel catering to business people,” Cal said. “His customers turned his business into a sought-after location because of his wife’s cooking. Her specialty? Pie.”
“You’re making this up,” Bryony said, amused, which was dangerous. Amusement weakened the thicket she’d grown around her heart in the past few days.
“In fact,” Cal said, “his restaurant and hotel were so prosperous he was able to eventually buy this building back from Charles Smith. He opened his dry goods store, which serviced the town through the Great Depression.”
Skepticism seeped into her amusement. “Is all of this true?”
He nodded with vigor, saying, “I fact-checked,” and led her to the next building.
