FORTY-EIGHT
Mina
To say I’m distracted is an understatement. My mind is on Nathan. On how my heart spasmed when I realized he was the man sitting across from Dom. On the intensity surging between us when our eyes met. On the hope followed by fear dashing across his face when he answered the call from his father.
Nathan said he’d call as soon as he could, and my heart took him literally. Half my attention is on my phone while I fill orders even though I know he’s too busy with family to be thinking of me.
As it should be.
Nat, the owner of The Depot who prefers to spend her evenings tending bar, stops me as I return from my last table. She’s got Mama Bear energy and that is so what I need right now. “You doing okay, Mina?”
“I’m fine.” I slide my tray onto the tray spot and do my best to conjure a convincing aura of fine as I grab the tubs of salt and pepper to refill the shakers in my section.
“You’ve been rattled since that man cornered you earlier.” Nat leans her elbows on the bar, the picture of nonchalance. “Which is an understandable response. Being hemmed in by a man that big who looks at you the way he did. Anyone would be off after that.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve had a hard time getting our conversation off my mind. He…” What am I supposed to say? Nat might be the first person I’ve talked to who doesn’t seem like she’s a fan of Fallon’s blog. “He’s kind of my boyfriend and we had a fight and we’re not handling it well.”
I’d say that about sums it up.
Nat waves off my apology. “Don’t sweat it. We all have off days, especially when you’re fighting with someone that intense.” She leans against the bar with an understanding smile. “Tell you what. Why don’t you stop by the office, grab your paycheck, and head on out. I’ll finish your sidework for you.”
That’s the most welcome thing I’ve heard all night, but I don’t want to take advantage of Nat’s kindness. I refuse to be that person, so I grab a saltshaker off the bar and give it a shake to see if it needs filled. Yup. This one’s definitely low.
“I don’t want to be a problem,” I say, twisting the lid off the big tub of salt. “I can finish my own stuff.”
“Considering how distracted you’ve been, it’ll be more of a problem if you stay,” she replies with a pointed look at my hands. I glance down to discover I’ve poured pepper from the shaker in my hand into the large tub of salt. There isn’t one thing I got right.
I’d love to argue with Nat, but don’t really have a leg to stand on, so I thank her, then head home and climb into bed, replaying my conversation with Nathan while I fruitlessly chase sleep.
After a long night, I spend yet another distracted day at the office, then skedaddle on over to Shady Cove. Nat’s Mama Bear energy is nice, but nowhere near a substitute for my actual mom. With everything going on, I really need her right now. I stop in the financial office to spend my first paycheck from The Depot on my way in. The walls are painted a cheery lemon with well-loved motivational posters hanging in sporadic intervals. Cats telling me to hang in there. Prancing goats reminding me to live, laugh, and love, or to hope, believe, and dream.
“Hello, Glenda!” I singsong as I walk through the door. “I’ve got money for you!”
Instead of the insta-grin I’m used to, Glenda looks concerned. “Well, hey there,” she says, her perfectly shaped brows drawing together. “I didn’t expect to see you today.”
I’m not sure what to do with that statement. “Just thought I’d keep chiseling away at that bill,” I offer weakly.
“Oh. Right.” Glenda gives me a look I can’t decipher. “There’s, uh…there’s nothing to chisel at.”
I scrunch up my brow. “There’s definitely lots to…” In my confusion I mime a hammer and chisel. “I still owe you guys a ton of money.”
Dear God. Why am I this way? Yours truly, Mina Blake.
“Not as of this morning.” Glenda shakes her head and stabs her keyboard to wake up her computer, then leans close as her fingers fly over the keys. “I’m definitely seeing a zero balance. You won’t owe anything for…three months.” The corners of her mouth twitch, like she’s holding back a smile.
What in the name of fairy godmother guardian angels is going on? Did Glenda work some magic on my behalf?
“How is that possible?” I lean over her desk, trying to read the numbers on her screen for myself. “I was significantly behind…”
“If I were you, I’d count your lucky stars for…um…accounting errors, yeah, accounting errors, and come see me in three months.” The gleam in Glenda’s eyes makes me think I’m missing something, but I’m too stunned to ask. I say my goodbyes and wander into the hallway, pausing to look over my shoulder at the woman who’s definitely grinning from ear to ear.
Something’s going on. And whatever it is, she’s in on it. Or in charge of the whole thing.
“Don’t forget to stop in and see your mother,” she adds with a wink.
What a strange thing to say. Why would I forget the whole reason I’m here?
“I won’t,” I mumble, lifting a hand before heading down the maze of halls to find Mom’s room, then pull up short when I hear her laughing.
“That’s not the best part though!” she says, between giggles. Actual giggles! Who is she talking to? That handsome man we passed in the hallway? The one who made her blush?
I lean a little closer, hoping for a peek.
“If that’s not the best part,” replies…Nathan?! “You need to finish the story now.”
I poke my head through the doorway, so dazed I can’t speak. Mom and Nathan are sitting at her table, each cradling a mug she made in art therapy. She has her hand on his arm and the biggest smile on her face while she giggles, wiping tears from her eyes. And him? He looks completely at home sitting next to my mother. Was everything that happened over the last couple months a set up? Were the two of them in cahoots the entire time? That doesn’t make any sense, but neither does what I’ve walked into.
“Hello?” I manage and my two favorite faces in the world turn to me with matching grins.
“Speak of the devil,” Mom says, smiling widely.
“Why didn’t I know you were afraid of the teacup ride at carnivals?” Nathan’s eyes are warm like springtime and feel like coming home.
“Why didn’t I know you were friends with my mother?” I ask in return, then glare at Mom. “And why are you telling him the teacup ride story? So I was scared and hugged a tree when the ride ended. It’s not that big of a deal.”
Mom waves off my concerns about a story she finds charming and I find mortifying. “Nathan stopped by to introduce himself and let me tell you what, you have yourself a wonderful man here.”
