Coming Home To You (Man From Yesterday 1) Page 9

  Once inside, Kate snapped on the kitchen light and heaved Mercedes’ bag into the center of the room. The roller wheels scraped on the gray linoleum. Turning, she was shocked by the dark circles ringing her sister's eyes. Then again, Mercedes had always worked punishing hours.

  “You okay? Want some coffee?”

  “I drank enough coffee in Atlanta between flights.” Mercedes’ hand shook as she unbuttoned her coat and took in the room. “My God, hasn't Mom gotten rid of those white curtains yet? Eyelet? Really?”

  “She loves those curtains.” Kate had washed and pressed them two days earlier.

  “And that refrigerator? Archaic.”

  “It runs fine, Mercedes. Refrigerators can be very expensive.”

  “Still, we should pop for a new one next Christmas.”

  “Maybe Mom would rather have a new fuzzy robe.”

  Her sister’s mouth opened in a huge yawn.

  “You must be exhausted. I’m just going to lock up.”

  “See you in the morning.” Mercedes dragged her suitcase over the rag rugs in the living room and headed for the second floor. Her suitcase bumped against every stair. Mercedes never lifted anything if she could help it.

  That day, Kate had opened the windows in her sister’s bedroom wanting to freshen things up. As she slid the bolt on the door leading to the screen porch, she could hear Mercedes slam the windows closed.

  Chapter 12

  The cooing of the mourning doves woke Kate up the next morning. The eight-thirty alarm hadn’t gone off yet. Stumbling, she pulled on jeans cold from the floor and her green Say Yes to Michigan! sweatshirt. Tiptoeing into the bathroom so she wouldn’t wake up Mercedes, she yanked her hair into a ponytail, brushed her teeth, and splashed water on her face. Then she eased herself down the stairs.

  Coffee was perking on the stove before her sister made it downstairs dressed in designer black jeans, black boots, and a black hoodie that probably had a designer label.

  “Thank God.” Mercedes grabbed the carafe and an empty mug.

  “Cereal?” Kate held up her box of Kashi.

  “I'm on a diet. The coffee keeps my metabolism up. Such a struggle.” She sighed, as if staying slim was as serious as the war against hunger.

  Tugging her green hoodie over hips that suddenly felt big as a sand dune, Kate grabbed her keys. “I’d like to get to the flower shop. Then you can drive on to visit with Mom.”

  Mercedes rubbed her fingers into her eyes. “Maybe I’ll swing back to put some makeup on before I do that.”

  “Mercedes, this isn’t New York.”

  “What does that have to do with it?” Her sister rummaged in one of the cupboards “Didn’t we have some travel mugs?”

  Reaching around her sister’s head, Kate snatched one from the top shelf. She was taller, not a benefit in grade school. Then she filled out.

  With a sigh, Mercedes transferred her coffee, and the two of them were out the door. Chilly late spring air greeted them. Moisture beaded on the hood of her blue SUV.

  “Good morning, Bonita.”

  Mercedes gave an exaggerated sigh. She’d never even named her dolls.

  They got in and Kate revved the engine. She tapped the brakes all the way down the driveway, loving how her sister’s head jerked. “Sorry, Mercedes. I’m having trouble shifting.”

  “You should get an automatic.”

  “I did.”

  Silence. Big sigh. “Cut the crap, Katie.”

  The smile would probably stay on Kate’s face the entire day.

  Red Arrow Highway didn’t have much traffic this early. Summer people usually slept in, with the exception of the folks who walked the beach early, gathering stones and driftwood with plastic buckets.

  When they reached the main intersection of Whittaker Street and Red Arrow Highway, Mercedes glanced both ways. “Amazing. Nothing ever changes here.”

  “Pretty great, right?” Then Kate’s delight crumpled. “But Michiana Thyme has been sold. Do you believe it?”

  “About time. The clothes were about ten years behind. All those long skirts and beach hats.” Mercedes shuddered.

  The light changed. Kate stepped on the gas, and the car lurched forward.

  “The tourists like long skirts and sun hats, Mercedes.”

  “That kind of stock will never bring in the right kind of people.”

  Irritation churned the coffee in Kate’s stomach, but she buttoned her lips. She needed her sister’s cooperation.

  When she pulled into the empty parking lot, Cole was there with Bob Burns, her flower supplier. The two of them were heaving containers from a flatbed while Prissy sniffed each one.

  “My word, what is that thing?”

  Kate followed Mercedes’ eyes. “My flower, er, stand.” She’d almost said shop but that might be a stretch.

  “No, that animal. Looks like a starving cow.”

  Funny how that stung. “That’s Prissy. Cole’s dog. She’s sweet.”

  Did I really say that?

  Mercedes swiveled to stare. “Since when are you a dog lover?”

  “I’m not.” And why were they here? Didn’t Cole have his own projects?

  She waved. Three long tables formed a U under a snappy white tent. A sign in bright pink and green lettering was posted on one of the support beams.

  “‘Kate's Blooms’?” Her sister’s tone snapped something inside Kate.

  “Maybe a little cutesy, but I like it.” The “right kind of people” would probably never stop at a shop called Kate’s Blooms.

  “My, oh, my. Is that Cole Campbell?” Mercedes lowered her sunglasses.

  “Yep. He’s helping Ignacio and, well, me.”

  “What’s this? You never mentioned you’d hooked up with him again.”

  Kate bristled. “I haven’t ‘hooked up’ with him. We’re both working on this project. He’s helping Ignacio with… stuff.”

  Cole’s navy jacket was thrown across one of the tables. In a gray T-shirt that looked so soft, his muscles corded when he hoisted boxes of flower pots like they were lettuce. No wonder her sister was staring. Yep, this was going to be a long weekend. Cole looked up, and Mercedes inched down, like she didn’t want Cole to see her without makeup.

  Kate grabbed her purse and a work apron she’d found in a drawer. Her mother always wore full-length aprons, not “those sissy kind.” Her very words. Kate jumped out. “I'll text you when I need to be picked up. Probably stay until my stock runs out.”

  “Got it.” Somehow Mercedes crawled into the driver’s seat without getting out.

  “Oh, and Mercedes?”

  Her sister looked up, still slouching.

  “Careful with that shifting now.”

  Her sister’s lips moved furiously behind the window. Kate recognized some of it, but Mercedes always brought back colorful new terms from New York. Poor Bonita.

  “Ready for the holiday weekend?” Cole asked as she slipped into the apron.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Maybe Mercedes had a point about the makeup. Kate nipped her lower lip.

  “Nervous?”

  “Not at all. Should I be?” She tied the apron strings in a tight bow in the back. Yep, definitely had to go easy on the cheese crowns.

  “Just meant first time and all that.” The sun danced off Cole’s dark hair, and his blue eyes glinted. “But that’s right. Only a sophomore and you were always prepared for every debate. Even with Michigan City while the rest of us shook in our boots.”

  Her eyes fell. He’d shed his work boots for cowboy boots that looked hand tooled. Hand tooled and hot. “You never looked nervous to me. None of the seniors did.”

  “Looks can be deceiving. But you? You were the real thing, Katydid. Always hit your mark.”

  “If you only knew.” The morning of every debate, Kate got the dry heaves, hanging onto the toilet bowl until Mercedes hammered on the bathroom door and screeched in a voice she never used at school.

  “Got something f
or you.”

  “Really? What?” Her curiosity turned to an amazed chuckle when Cole handed her a large bag of cheese curls. “You shouldn’t have, but I’m out. Thanks. Giant size?”

  “Yep. That’s me, ah, it. Giant size.” His face had colored. “Special moments have to be remembered.”

  Special? Really? Blushing, she tucked the bag in an open box under the counter. “I’ll save these for later.”

  Cole studied her, eyes blue as the sky above. Made her feel the sun was shining just for her.

  She had to get out of here. “Guess I’ll check in with Ignacio and Chili.”

  Inside, Chili stood at the register along with one of Ignacio’s cousins. Produce and fruit were heaped in varying shades of green, red and yellow on the counters. Cheese and sauces along with who-knew-what else filled the refrigerator cases. Place looked pretty darn good. Tension and excitement hummed in the air.

  Cole disappeared, and she circled back to the stand outside. Cars arrived and couples got out, shopping lists in hand and skin pale from the winter.

  Dressed in khaki shorts and bright polos, the summer people snapped up cantaloupes and green beans, zucchini and spring lettuce. Chili told Kate later that customers assured her the vegetable store was “quaint,” just what the area needed.

  At Kate's stand, bouquets of snapdragons, calla lilies, and even some lilies of the valley and peonies were displayed in old mason jars. “I should have more in a couple of weeks,” she told one couple. It was a little early for the sturdy annuals.

  “Are you going to handle perennials too?” asked one father with a two-year-old in his arms.

  “Sure. Why not?” she assured him. “You might check back later.” Jotting down notes, Kate would check with her suppliers.

  By the time the noon sun had climbed high and hot in the sky, she was sold out. Her mason jars held only water. Empty flats were stacked below the table.

  Her legs felt rubbery. Kate plopped into a folding chair and reached for the bag of cheese curls. First day and she’d sold out. Who would have guessed?

  “I need more stock,” Kate whispered to Chili when she went inside in search of a soft drink.

  “Told you so.” Chili beamed and rang up the next customer. Then she reached out and wiped something from the corner of Kate’s lips. “Cheese curls?”

  “Of course.” Kate took a deep swig of cold root beer.

  “So good to have you here, amiga mia.” Chili swept away a hank of Kate’s hair.

  But Chili had work to do and Kate sauntered back to her stand. Memorial Weekend. She felt confident and a little cocky. Maybe she should have worn red, white, and blue today. Her green sweatshirt felt heavy, like last summer. After all, Memorial Day Weekend always promised three months of carefree, fun-filled days. Throwing her head back, she yanked the rubber band from her hair and shook it out. The shiny green pickup turned in from the highway.

  Stepping out of the driver’s seat, Cole came toward her. Prissy trotted at his side. “What? Everything’s gone?” When he swiped the dark glasses from his face, his blue eyes danced, like he was happy for her. Not that she was reading too much into it.

  “Looks like it.”

  “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  She had to laugh along with him.

  “Kate!” Natalie stuck her head out the pickup window. The breeze snagged her blonde hair, and Natalie swept it away from her shy smile. She was going to be so gorgeous.

  Kate walked over. “Finished the book yet?”

  “Yep. You going to be at the library next week?”

  Kate thought ahead. “Let's see. Maybe late Wednesday?” She hated to give up volunteering.

  “Dad, I can go to the library Wednesday after school. Can't I?”

  Pulling out his phone, Cole jotted something into what must be a calendar. “Sounds good.”

  Natalie drummed her fingers on the edge of the open window. “Be sure you get it in right, Dad. Not like the parent teacher conference. Pretty please?”

  His cheeks colored a ruddy red. “Natalie, I try.”

  Reaching out, Natalie patted his arm. “I know, Dad. I know.”

  The role reversal choked Kate.

  Keeping his head down, Cole pocketed the phone. Arms crossed, he turned to study the vegetable stand. Cars continued to turn in, spewing out families with lists. “This is great, Kate.”

  “Thanks for your help. Ignacio and Chili really appreciate it.”

  His steady gaze found hers. “We help each other in Gull Harbor.”

  “I can see that. I think.” But was he helping himself more? Suspicion darkened the edges of the bright day. She hardly felt any guilt about the bright yellow flyers in the back of the SUV.

  “You think? What does that mean?”

  One searing look from Cole and Kate swore her soul felt stripped bare. Never good at hiding her feelings, she dropped her head. “Nothing.”

  Chili would kill her. Cole had been nothing but helpful. He’d made time for them, not easy with all the projects on his plate. But were the local people easily led? She didn’t know the answer and she didn’t want to see one more building knocked down in the name of progress.

  The crinkle of plastic made Kate turn. Prissy was tussling with the bag of cheese curls, snapping them up as soon as they hit the grass.

  “Prissy! Bad, bad girl.” Cole advanced on his pet.

  Dropping the bag from her huge jaws, Prissy skirted the scene of the crime until she sat at the door of the pickup, incriminating orange splotches dusting her white and black coat.

  While Natalie and Cole fussed over the dog, Kate tried hard not to laugh. Cheese curls littered the area. Good thing Cole bought the large bag. Also good that Kate got to them first or she’d be plenty ticked. Natalie began to clean up while Cole got Prissy in the cab of the truck.

  “You coming to the Memorial Day barbecue on Monday?” He closed the truck door.

  “Wouldn't miss it. How do you think our mothers are getting along? I mean, your mother-in-law.”

  Cole’s dark brows knit together. “In a lot of ways, Marie is my mother, especially since my own folks moved to Florida. She seems to be getting along just fine with your mom. They have a history.”

  “Like a lot of folks in Gull Harbor.” The words just slipped out. Really. Kate meant nothing.

  Cole registered no response and she exhaled.

  Maybe best not to go there. Kate needed the arrangement with Cole’s mother-in-law to work out until her mom came home.

  Natalie had climbed back into the pickup. Prissy’s head hung out the window, nose sniffing the air as if searching for cheese curls. One hand on the driver's door, Cole turned. “Guess I'll see you Sunday?”

  “But I thought the picnic was on Monday.”

  “Right. I meant that meeting with you and your sister. Sunday, right?”

  Kate felt the day dim.

  “Anything wrong?”

  Would be a cold day in hell when Kate would admit her sister hadn’t told her about the meeting. “Nothing. See you at the meeting.” She could hardly get her mouth around the words.

  Cole wasn’t even out of the parking lot when Kate pulled out her phone to give her sister a call.

  Chapter 13

  Sunday evening Kate and Mercedes sat on the blue couch in the living room, drinking peach tea. Kate’s throat felt scratchy from trying to reason with her sister. She drummed her fingertips on her mug in time to the beats of the clock on the mantel. They'd only been waiting for Cole for ten minutes, but it seemed like forever. Kate set her cold tea down on the coffee table. “Think I'll wait outside.”

  “Is he always late like this?”

  “I have no idea. He has a little girl.”

  Mercedes looked up from paging through the latest issue of Vogue she’d brought with her. “So this is what kids do to you, huh? Make you late for meetings?”

  “Meetings?” Was there more to this than Mercedes had admitted?

  “Conversatio
n. This is only a conversation, Kate.”

  “It's a lot more than that, Mercedes, and you know it. Mom should be here for any discussion about Breezy Point.” Anger tightening her chest, Kate stomped out the front door on the porch. She let the screen door whap shut behind her. Pretty juvenile and she couldn't stand herself. She’d come home to find peace, the security she’d lost somewhere in Boston. But had she been detoured into unwanted conflict instead?

  The sounds of happy families drifted up from the beach. Summer days were long in Michigan. Families didn’t pack up and leave the sandy shore until the light dimmed from the sky. Below, children laughed, calling to each other as they splashed through the shallow waters. Kate should feel happy. Her first weekend at the flower stall and she’d sold out of stock. Instead of talking to Cole about their property, she'd rather be online, hunting down other resources for perennials.

  This wasn’t just a friendly talk. It was a meeting. She’d had her fill of them, including the town gathering where Cole made his presentation. Whatever was going to become of Gull Harbor?

  The slam of the pickup truck door put a cap on her thoughts.

  Tennis shoes kicking through the tall grass, she rounded the corner. “Hey, Cole.”

  He looked great. Again. His dark hair gleamed in the dusk, kind of smoky, like his eyes. The jean jacket looked so soft, so crushable. She had to fight the urge to reach out and run a hand over his broad shoulders. Definitely had a thing for the way time had changed her Debate Club buddy. She jammed her hands in her jeans.

  “Hey, Katydid. How's business?”

  “Blooming.”

  A grin tweaked one corner of his mouth. “Still so quick with words.”

  “That would be me.” But not when it counted. She’d seen Cole in action at that meeting, and it scared her how persuasive he still could be.

  As she told him about her weekend success, she realized he probably thought in terms of five or six digit returns, not the meager dollars from a flower stand. She didn't care. His grin widened while she talked. So easy to forget and let him be the same enthusiastic president of Debate Club from so many years ago.

  “Where are Natalie and Prissy?” she asked.

  “With a neighbor.” His smile turned sheepish. “Folks in my neighborhood are always glad to help out. Besides, I didn’t know if they’d be welcome.”