Salt Water Taffie (Boardwalk Brides Book 1) (7 page)

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s going anywhere for a while,” Mr. Carini said. “So, let’s all settle in and make ourselves at home.”

Off in the distance, a flashlight came on. The illumination lit up one startlingly beautiful face—Taffie’s. She smiled in his direction, then called for Casey to come and join her. Ryan watched through the shadows as his niece slipped across the room and into Taffie’s welcoming arms, then he reached for his cell phone to call Mallory.

TEN

Nearly an hour later, Casey dozed off in Mr. Carini’s recliner in the back office. Ryan joined the Carini’s around one of the small tables in the shop for a bite to eat.

“I always keep lunch meats and cheeses in the fridge,” Mrs. C. explained as she placed a paper plate down in front of him. “We eat lunch here most every day. We’d better eat it up quick, before it goes bad.”

Ryan bit into the tastiest ham and cheese sandwich he’d ever eaten. “Mmm. This is awesome. Best meal I’ve ever had on the boardwalk.”

“Hardly.” Mrs. Carini laughed. “But we’re happy you’re sharing it with us.”

“Speaking of food, have you been to that new seafood place a couple of doors down?” Taffie asked. “I’ve been dying to go. I’ve heard great things about it.”

“Oh, Luke told me about it. Said they’ve got wonderful service and good food,” Ryan said. “I’ve been wanting to go, myself.” In fact, if he used his imagination, he could almost taste the lobster now.

“Well, you two kids should go check it out sometime,” Mr. Carini said. “Tell us if it’s any good. Then maybe we can all go. Both families, I mean.”

“I–I’d like that.” Ryan paused a moment, wondering if Taffie realized that he was asking her out.
Am I asking her out?
“W–would you like to go with me, Taffie?”

“I. . .well, sure.”

Though he could barely make out her face in the shadows, Ryan felt sure he saw the look of contentment in her eyes. He certainly heard it in her voice.
Lord, I could spend the rest of my life sitting right here. With her.

A flash of lighting caused the direction of the conversation to shift. “I hope the power isn’t out too much longer,” Mrs. Carini said. “That ice cream is packed hard, but we’re going to lose it all if the storm lingers.”

Mr. Carini, in his now-familiar way, began to pray aloud. “Lord, we thank You for unexpected time together—always a gift—and we praise You for sending Ryan to fix the taffy machine. Oh, and thank You for Luke, who made the part. Now, Father. . .we ask that You send this storm on its way so that we can get back to the business You’ve called us to. And, Lord, if it’s not too much to ask, could You protect our ice cream? Use Your supernatural freezing abilities to keep it solid till the storm passes?”

Everyone at the table echoed his “amen,” then sat in silence awhile. Ryan knew by now what they were doing. Waiting on the Lord. He didn’t mind waiting. Not with Taffie so nearby, anyway.

“I remember a storm that hit when I was a kid,” he said, finally. “I was about Casey’s age. It scared me to death. I don’t know why, but I’ve always been afraid of lightning.”

“Not me,” Taffie’s voice had an easy sound to it. “In fact, I love it when it storms outside. It’s especially great at night, right about the time I’m climbing into bed. There’s something about the sound of rain tapping at my windo
w─
”

Just then a clap of thunder ended the sentence for her. Another flash of lightning followed, its white rays sending slivers of light through the shutters at the window.

“Whoa.” She laughed. “Maybe I don’t love it
that
much.”

“I love that scripture in Isaiah—the one about how we can go through the waters and not drown,” Mrs. Carini threw in. “Lets me know that I can go through storms and make it, with God’s help.” She paused for a moment, then the tone of her voice changed. “I’ve already learned from personal experience that it’s true. About three years ago I went through the worst storm of my life.”

The room grew eerily silent and Ryan’s curiosity increased.

“I was diagnosed with cancer,” she finally explained. “Went through months of chemo and radiation.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” He didn’t ask for details and she didn’t offer them.

Her voice softened further. “Thank God for my family. They were my life support. Well, that and my faith. We never stopped praying.”

“Prayer is the answer,” Mr. Carini said.

“And Mom is really strong.” Taffie’s voice broke as she shared. “Every time I showed up at the hospital, she was more concerned about whoever happened to be in the bed next to her than about herself. We spent hours praying for people we’d never even met before.”

“I’m not the only one who’s ever suffered.” Mrs. Carini replied. “And what would be the point of being in a place with that many hurting people and
not
praying for them? I knew I was there for a season, so I connected with as many people as I could. And prayed for as many as I could.”

“Amazing.” The thunder rolled overhead. “What about you, Mr. C.?” Ryan asked. “You haven’t told us your take on storms yet.”

“I faced my share of them as a child,” Mr. Carini explained. “Most were not the kind like we’re experiencing tonight, but in the way of persecution because of my heritage.”

“Oh?” This struck a chord.

“Yes, I was called names. Hurtful names.”

“I heard a few of those myself, growing up,” Ryan acknowledged. Kids could be so ugly at times.

“Actually, what I went through was nothing like what my pop experienced,” Mr. Carini explained. “He came over from Italy and was so proud to be an American. As I said, he opened the candy shop right away and had a steady flow of customers. But with all of the tensions in Europe, a lot of people treated him like a foreigner.”

“My grandparents told me stories about all of that when I was young,” Ryan said. “In fact, my great-grandfather was in an internment camp for a year or so when he was little.”

“Didn’t happen to the same extent that it happened to Japanese-Americans,” Taffie’s father explained. “But several hundred Italian-Americans were held in military camps. Thank God my pop wasn’t one of them. He managed to keep the store going. But he had to carry an identity card that labeled him as a resident alien. Worst of all, the Italian language was nearly lost here during that time. Italian-Americans were afraid to speak anything but English for fear of persecution. They just wanted to fit in—at any cost.”

Ryan nodded. “Personally, I think the Italian language is the most beautiful in the world.”

“Ooo, I agree,” Taffie said. “I still love it when my mom gets excited about something and dives in, forgetting she’s not speaking English.”

At once Mrs. Carini began to explain, in perfect Italian, just why she loved the musical sound of the language. Ironically, Ryan understood every word. Just one more thing they all had in common.

“My pop has worked hard to make sure my brothers and I had hefty doses of Italian,” he said with a grin.

“Your parents raised you right.” Mr. Carini laughed. “So, you’ll have to make sure your children learn the language as well. Promise?”

My children
? Funny, until earlier tonight, Ryan had never thought of himself as a father. Sure, he helped out with Casey, but. . .kids of his own?

Sitting here, in the dark, with the Carini family surrounding him, he came to a startling reality. If he could find a wife half again as good as any of these people, his children were bound to be wonderful.

***

Taffie listened intently as Ryan talked with her parents. He had such an easygoing way about him. Comfortable. Sure, it could be because they had so much in common. . .but there was more than that. She sensed something deeper.

“Your mother told me you’re very active at your church,” Taffie’s mother said, breaking the silence.

“Yes. I lead worship for the singles ministry.”

“You sing?” Taffie tried to make out his face in the shadows. “Really?”

“I do. And I play the guitar, too.”

“Tangie is the singer in our family,” Taffie said. “And Candy is amazing on the piano. I’ve never really had any musical abilities.”

“Not true, not true,” her father reminded her. “Remember in the fourth grade. What was that contraption your music teacher made you play?”

“The recorder?” She laughed. “Pop, I was terrible, even on the recorder.” After a moment’s pause, she shifted her attention back to Ryan. “Do you sing contemporary worship songs at your church? They’re my favorite.”

“Yep. Sure do. We throw in an occasional hymn, just to mix it up. But we’ve got a pretty young crowd—mostly people in their twenties and thirties. So, most of them were raised on contemporary music.”

“I like those songs,” Taffie’s mother interjected, “but I love the old standards, too.”  At once, she began to sing, “ ’Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,” her lyrical voice turning the candy shop into a sanctuary. When she finished, Taffie could scarcely breathe. Something about her mother’s voice ringing out across the darkness sent shivers up her spine. . .in a good way.

“That was gorgeous, Mrs. C.,” Ryan said. “So, you’re not only a Bible study teacher, you’re a vocalist as well. I can see you now, traveling from state to state in that RV of yours, entertaining folks at RV parks all over the country.”

“Great idea!” Pop interjected. “And I’ll bring my harmonica.”

Taffie groaned. Pop and his harmonica.

“Maybe you’re on to something there, Ryan,” Taffie’s mother said. “I do love to sing. That particular song came to mind because of the candy store. We’re always playing music overhead that has the word
sweet
in it. Or
sugar
.”

“Oh, right,” Ryan said. “I remember now. You were playing ‘Sugar, Sugar’ the first day I came in.”

“Marketing strategy,” Taffie’s pop explained.

“Oh, you should hear the rest of our repertoire.” Taffie laughed. “ ‘The Candy Man.’ ‘Big Rock Candy Mountain.’ ‘Lollypop, Lollypop.’ And then we have our spiritual numbers: ‘In the Sweet By and By.’ ‘Sweeter as the Days Go By.’ ” She laughed. “It gets pretty sticky in here sometimes.”

“But the customers love it,” her pop interjected. “So we keep it up.”

“Terrific idea.” Ryan laughed. “You folks sure know how to run a business.”

Taffie squirmed in her seat, afraid the others might sense her discomfort.
If only he knew how much I don’t know.

Just then, the lights flashed back on, nearly blinding everyone in the place. “Whoa!” Taffie’s eyes finally adjusted and she glanced at Ryan. His gaze met hers and they lingered a moment, neither Taffie nor Ryan speaking a word.

“Praise God!” Taffie’s mom’s voice rang out as she checked out the ice cream. “I do believe we’ve avoided a calamity. It was that prayer of yours that did it, Carl. The ice cream is saved!”

“Amen!” Pop shouted. “What say we celebrate by eating some?”

The noise—and likely the lights—served to awaken Casey. She came bounding from the back room, rubbing her eyes. “Did someone say ice cream?” Her expression, filled with innocence and wonder, took Taffie back to her own childhood.

Ryan looked at his watch and groaned. “Your mom is going to kill me.”

“Maybe she could have a small scoop?” Taffie suggested.

“Please, Uncle Ryan? Please!”

“Just a tiny, tiny scoop.” He sighed. “How in the world can I argue with her? Look at that face.”

Everyone turned to look at Casey, who gazed back at them with sleepy eyes. Taffie had to conclude, the little girl had somehow wriggled herself into everyone’s heart.

Turning her attention to Ryan, Taffie concluded something else. . .
he
had wriggled his way into her heart as well. And she might just celebrate the fact with a double-scoop of Rocky Road.              

ELEVEN

Ryan hated to see the evening come to an end, but as he glanced down at his watch, he realized the late hour. “It’s almost nine o’clock.” He looked at Casey with a sigh. “She should be home in bed.”

“I was asleep already, Uncle Ryan,” she reminded him. After a lengthy yawn, she added, “Besides, I don’t have any homework tonight.”

“I’m sure she’ll doze off the minute she gets in the car,” he reasoned aloud. “That’s how I was as a kid.”

“Me, too.” Taffie laughed. “To this day, I have a hard time staying awake when someone else is driving.”

“Remind me to do all the driving then.” He paused, realizing what he’d said.
Now she knows I want to spend time with her. Lots of time.
Instead of allowing embarrassment to overcome him, he laughed and turned back to Casey. “Ready to go, kiddo?”

“If we
have
to.” She raced to Mrs. Carini, giving her a hug, then did the same to Mr. Carini. She finally landed in Taffie’s outstretched arms.

“We loved having you here, honey.” Taffie ran her hand across Casey’s tousled hair. “Come back and see us anytime.”

“Ooo, I would love that!”

Ryan faced Taffie. “Would you. . .would you mind walking me to the door?” His courage nearly failed him as the question eased its way out.

“Of course.” She stepped alongside him and they made their way toward the front of the store, their conversation easy, as always. Casey tagged along behind them.

“I had a great time here—with you and your family,” he admitted. “In some ways it’s just like being home. And in others. . .” Under the glow of the iridescent light overhead, he stared into her rich brown eyes and almost stumbled over the next few words. “In others, it’s so much better. When I’m with you
”─
he gestured back to her famil
y─
“all of you. . .I’m completely comfortable. It’s like I’ve discovered a part of myself that I never knew existed.”

“I think that’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever heard.” The edges of Taffie’s lips curled up in a smile. “But you make it easy. I don’t think you realize just what a nice guy you are. Children love you. Adults love you. I. . .” She stumbled over the next few words. “
I─
I think you’re great.”

“Thanks.” He took hold of her hand and her cheeks immediately turned crimson. “I want to spend more time with you. Do you really think you can take an evening away from the business stuff to go out for seafood? Maybe this coming Saturday night? We could go out to see another movie after.”

“Can I come, too?” Casey jumped up and down at his side.

“Not this time, honey. Uncle Ryan wants to take Taffie out on a date.”

“Like that guy in the movie!”

“Well, sort of.”

Casey crossed her arms at her chest and gave him a knowing look. “When your date is over, you have to sing to her. And kiss her, too.”

Ryan slapped himself in the head. So much for trying to accomplish this in front of a seven-year-old. He glanced over at Taffie to gauge her response. She offered a coy smile, which warmed his heart.

“So, with all of this singing and kissing in our future, do you think we should see another fluffy romance?” Taffie quizzed him with humor sparkling in her eyes.

‘Um, no. Something practical. Something we both agree on.”

“In that case, you’ve got a deal.” She gave his hand a squeeze, then reached to give him a warm hug. “I can’t wait.”

Casey rolled her eyes as she shared her thoughts on the matter. “You two are
so
boring.”

Ryan did his best to ignore her, keeping his gaze fixed on the one woman who now totally consumed his thoughts. Right now, the way his heart felt, he
could
burst into song. And kissing her? He fought the temptation with every breath. “I’ll call you on Saturday afternoon to settle on a time,” he said. “And Taffie. . .”

“Yes?”

“
I─
I think you’re as sweet as your name.”

***

As Taffie watched Ryan walk out the door, her heartbeat escalated. She’d seen the look in his eye. Longing. The same look in the eye of every child begging for candy. Finally! Was it really possible?

She practically floated on a cloud all the way back into the shop, where her parents met her with childlike grins on their faces.

“W–what?” She played innocent.

“You know what!” Her mother’s eyes sparkled. “He likes you. And we like him. He’s great, Taffie.”

“He is pretty great.” Her face warmed at the admission, so she turned away for a moment, pretending to busy herself.

“You two are a match made in heaven. I can just see my grandkids now—your smile, his great hair. Your love for people, his great singing voice. . .”

Taffie groaned as she turned back to face her mother. “Mom, don’t marry me off just yet. We haven’t even had our first date yet. And besides, things aren’t always as easy as they seem on the surface.” As she spoke the words, a chill came over her. No, things were not always as easy as they seemed. Take running the shop, for instance.

“Seems like he’s got a good head on his shoulders,” her pop said. “But can we talk about your love life on the drive home? I’m worn out. I’m ready to get out of here.”

“Of course.” Not that Taffie wanted to chat about her pending love life with her parents, but she was ready to get home. A bubble bath sounded mighty good. And she had a sudden urge to write in her journal—something she’d been lax in doing over the past few weeks.

Thoughts of Ryan tumbled through her head as she helped her parents clean up the store. She pondered the evening’s events. No doubt God had ordained every moment. Taffie smiled as she thought about Ryan’s trying to handle the taffy wrapper. His clumsy antics made her laugh. Maybe his skills didn’t lie in candy making, but she could see the excitement in his eyes as they’d talked about the business end of things. She’d have to pick his brain. He seemed to have a lot of expertise in that area.

As her father turned out the light, Taffie stood in darkness for a moment, reflecting back on the words Ryan had spoke earlier. . .also in the darkness. All of that stuff about leading worship at his church.
The boy has hidden talents!
Somehow, just knowing he could carry a tune, made her want to try. She warbled out a few notes of “Sugar, Sugar,” but stopped cold as her mother looked her way. “What?”

“I don’t recall ever hearing you sing alone before, that’s all. And you’re not tone-deaf, Taffie. You’ve got to stop saying that.”

“Really?” She tried a few more bars. This time her mother joined in, harmonizing. From out of the darkness, the sound of a harmonica playing almost caused Taffie to stop singing. Instead, she increased her volume. The Carini family had a full-out concert, right there at the front door of the taffy shop. “Sugar, Sugar” filled the air.

Taffie couldn’t help but think it was the first of many love songs yet to come.

***

As Ryan pulled his car into his older brother’s driveway, he glanced in the backseat to find Casey fast asleep. “Go ahead and sleep, you little matchmaker, you.” He turned off the car and opened his door. A stirring at the front door of the house caught his attention. Vic approached the car.

“Hey.” Ryan stepped out of the car, then looked at his brother with great curiosity. “You’re. . .home.”

“Yeah. I’m home.”

“So, are you and Mallory. . .”

“We’re thinking about it. Tonight we’re on again. Maybe tomorrow we’ll be off. Who knows.” Vic shrugged. “To be honest, I’m so tired of the back and forth stuff.”

“Me, too.” This time the voice came from the back seat. Ryan reached for the handle and opened the door, watching as Casey—eyes now wide open—unfastened her seat belt. “Daddy! You’re home!” She practically flung herself in her father’s arms. “I had so much fun tonight. I learned how to make taffy and I ate lots and lots and lots of sugar!”

“Hmm. I see.” Vic turned to give Ryan an inquisitive look.

Ryan put his hands up in self-defense. “Not my fault. I did my best to curb the sweets. But when you’re stuck in a candy shop with a seven-year-old, you’re lucky to get out alive. That’s all I’ve got to say on the matter.”

As if to echo his words, Casey groaned. “My tummy hurts. I don’t feel so good.”

“Mm-hmm.” Vic swept his daughter into his arms. “C’mon in the house, baby. Your mommy will make it all better.”

Ryan watched the interaction between father and daughter with a hopeful sigh. Maybe, just maybe, this time things would work out between Vic and Mallory. Maybe God, in His infinitely supernatural way, would make everything better.