When Life Gives You Lemons Instead of Lattes by Rayna York

Author:Rayna York [York, Rayna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PublishDrive

16

“Why do you keep staring at me like that,” Charles grumbles.

“Sorry. No reason.” Nana’s diary has been in the forefront of my mind, but I can’t tell him that—at least not yet. I want to finish reading it first—find out the whole story. But even then . . . It’s a diary.

“Charles. Did you start this store on your own?”

He looks up from his desk with his usual surly expression. “Why would you ask that?”

I lean against the doorjamb. “Just wondering.” I know his father had it before him—Nana wrote it in her diary—but it was the only opening I could think of. I want details about the past.

“My great-grandfather started it, but I worked for my grandfather and then my dad after school, from when I was Harlow’s age. Started with bagging groceries and helping customers out to their cars when they needed me to.”

“So your dad was a General?” He looks at me, suspicion in his eyes. “The name of the store?”

“Oh, right. Dad was in the Spanish American War and World War I, but my grandfather was the General. My great-grandfather called the store Fitzwald’s Mercantile.”

“Did you go to war?” I think about what Harlow said about PTSD and wonder if Charles had to deal with that.

“Yes, I did, like every other man that could enlist.”

“How well did you know my great-grandmother?”

His brow furrows. “You’re asking a lot of questions. You got something to say? Say it.” His expression is hard, his words harsher than usual.

“Jeez, back off. Nothing. I was just . . .” Think, think, think. “You mentioned that I remind you of her, and . . . I never got to know her . . . sooo, I was just wondering.”

He sighs. “Listen, there’s a history there that I’m not too keen on digging up.”

Finally, an opening. “Oh, really? Do tell.”

His eyes flare. “I just got done tellin’ you . . .” He stops, calms himself. “As far as being like her, she was brave, strong-willed, and didn’t take crap from nobody. She was also the first person to help out when someone needed it.” He turns away. “I need to get back to these books.”

I want to tell him he’s wrong. Other than having a strong personality, Nana and I are nothing alike. I don’t have a selfless bone in my body—that trait skipped right over me and into Harlow.

The front entrance door jingles. I peer out from the office as Tristan walks in. “Whipping cream again?” I step behind the checkout counter and give him a flirty smile.

“Nope. Gran says she has a hankering for peach cobbler—her words not mine—so it’s peaches and vanilla ice cream this time.” He comes over to the snack display, contemplating before deciding on a bag of chips. “You know, I think I’m addicted to your brownies. Otto insisted I try one, and I’m already craving another.”

“From Jojo’s?” Stupid question. I dropped some off on my way to work today. I swear the guy makes me addled half the time.

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