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.
Cal chuckled. “Susie Q—that’s funny.” He picked up his cup. “Gotta run. You two have a good day.” He held his coffee aloft with a “thanks for this” to Bryony and headed to the door.
Bryony looked at Charity and smiled.
Charity placed her fingertips on the counter. “Bryony, I also want to apologize for something else.”
The shop door closed behind Cal. Bryony brought her full attention back to Charity. “What for?”
“For being such a jerk to you all through school.” Charity steadied herself on the counter, her symmetrical, perfect face sober. “You were always nice to me, and I acted terribly after Susie convinced me that you had a thing for Chuck. I have a grandchild who was recently cyber-bullied.” She lowered her head and shook it slowly back and forth. “Some of those text messages she received were pretty reminiscent of how we treated you. I now realize how awful that can be for the person on the receiving end.” She raised her head, and Bryony could see the contrition on that beautiful perfect face. “I am asking for your forgiveness.”
“In Susie’s defense,” Bryony said. “I did kind of have a thing for Chuck in high school.”
Charity’s countenance softened, and she chuckled. “Of course you did! Every girl had a thing for Chuck back then.”
When Bryony smiled this time, a flood of warmth filled her chest. “True.”
Placing her hand over Bryony’s, Charity asked, “Will you come to our holiday gathering this Sunday? We’d love to include you in celebrating our good fortune.”
Without hesitation, Bryony said, “I’d love to come.”
“Thank you.” Charity removed her hand and picked up her gloves. She started to leave, but turned back. “I almost forgot the reason I came in. I heard you’re opening a pie business. Do you have time to bake some for the party? We’ll need about a dozen.”
“I’d love to,” Bryony answered, amazed she had spoken that phrase twice within two minutes to Charity Henderson and actually meant it.
“Great! You pick what kind to make. Bring them with you. The party starts at four.”
“Okay,” Bryony said. “I’ll be there.”
Charity left, and the next customer came through the door behind her.
The natural light in the shop suddenly brightened, as if a cloud had passed and the sun could shine unfiltered again. Forgiveness was a wonderful thing. If only one could bake it into a pie and feed it to the world.
CAL CHOOSES, AGAIN
Cal sat down at the kitchen table for his morning call with Rachel. He put her on speaker and laid the phone beside his cereal bowl.
Their mix of professional and personal had seemed like a good idea in late November. Now he wasn’t sure. The phone time felt like a chore, one more task to complete in a day filled with a never-ending list of tasks.
“Your father’s doing great!” Rachel said. “The girls love him. He walked around the block with Ellie last night.”
“Whose idea was that?” Cal asked. His father had given up evening walks when he retired.
“He insisted,” Rachel answered. “Said he’s ready to resume his daily constitutional to inspect the neighborhood.”
“Great to hear, Rachel.” Cal would be forever grateful to the nurse who had organized an entire posse of young women to look after his father. They cooked, cleaned, ran errands, took him to appointments, and learned his favorite games. In short, they were a new kind of family for Cal Sr., a family based on providing every need possible until his life ended, as it should be for everyone.
“What time do you arrive tonight?” she asked.
“I’m not coming this weekend,” Cal answered.
“Why not?”
Cal sighed. He liked Rachel. He appreciated her help, her wit, her zip, but the disappointment in her voice concerned him. She seemed wounded by his decision to do something other than what she expected. “Papers to grade. And a friend’s having a holiday party on Sunday.”
“Do you have a date for the party?” she asked, coyly.
“No,” Cal answered, not too bothered by the need to play along with her teasing way to ask for reassurance. “I told you. I’m a one-woman-at-a-time kind of guy.”
