Butternut Summer by Mary McNear

Author:Mary McNear
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

The next thing Jack knew, his watch alarm was going off and he was jerking awake on the living room couch, feeling as if he’d been asleep for about fifteen minutes. But no, it was six A.M., and he’d promised Caroline he’d get the coffee shop ready to be open by seven. He dragged himself up, folded the blanket, and left it and the pillow neatly stacked on the couch. Then he headed down the short hallway to the front door, meaning to go straight to the coffee shop. But he stopped abruptly halfway down the hallway and turned to look at the pictures hanging on its walls. They were a virtual photographic tour of Daisy’s childhood, he realized, leaning closer to study a few of them. There was Daisy, looking about four years old, wearing a pair of overalls and a straw hat and riding a pony at a county fair. There was an older Daisy, maybe six or seven, perched on a stool at Pearl’s, her broad smile revealing two missing front teeth. And there was Daisy in high school, wearing a volleyball uniform, holding a trophy, and already, at fifteen or sixteen, the confident, poised young woman he knew today. And here was one of Caroline, too, posing with Daisy, last year or the year before, in front of a Christmas tree in the apartment’s living room. He reached out, almost unconsciously, and touched Caroline’s image with his finger. Had that kiss meant anything to her last night? he wondered. Was it any indication of her feelings for him? Or was it just the product of a drunken, impetuous moment?

He took his finger off the picture and took one final look around the wall, quickly taking in the other pictures. He was nowhere to be found here. Nor should he be, he reminded himself, feeling that sharp, but familiar pain.

Jack went down to the coffee shop then and did all the things he knew Caroline did every morning before it opened without ever complaining about having to do any of them. He was taking the chairs off the tables when he heard the rattle of keys in the front door and turned to see Frankie, the cook, letting himself in.

“Good morning,” Jack said, aiming for friendly. But Frankie didn’t return his friendliness. He just stared at Jack impassively and then went about his business. The two of them avoided each other for a while, but when Frankie came around behind the counter with Jack, it was close quarters for the both of them, especially given Frankie’s size, and Jack could practically feel the hostility emanating off Frankie’s body.

“Look,” Jack said, turning to Frankie when he felt like he couldn’t take it anymore. “I know you don’t like me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to like me. But I told Caroline I’d open for her this morning, and I’m doing it, and while I’m doing it, I’d appreciate a little civility from you.”

Frankie, who was standing only an arm’s length away, stopped what he was doing and fixed Jack with another stare.

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