Wishing on Willows: A Novel (9 page)

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Concern whipped her insides into stiff, pointed peaks—sharp and overbeaten. Robin didn’t want to give voice to her worry, but even after all these years, she could still hear her mother’s words.
“Better out than in,”
she would say. “With the way news spreads in this town, I’m sure you’ll hear about it soon enough.”

“Hear about what?”

“Did Evan tell you who we ran into outside of church while you were getting Elyse from the nursery?”

“Who?”

“Remember the guy Amanda spilled coffee on?”

“The cute auditor?”

“Turns out he’s not an auditor.” And he wasn’t
that
cute. Robin took a deep breath and let her fears whoosh past her lips. “He wants to buy Willow Tree so he can knock it down and build condos.”

Bethany’s eyebrows disappeared behind chocolate-brown bangs.

“I don’t know why I’m getting worked up over it. It’s not like he can force me to sell and I already told him no. So I should let it go, right?”

Bethany folded her arms and leaned against the counter.

“But he turned up at Val’s with Mayor Ford when I was going over numbers with Amanda. Supposedly he’s meeting with town council on Friday.”

“Sounds serious.”

Robin threw Bethany a withering glance. “That doesn’t make me feel much better.”

“Look, there’s nothing you or I can do about the condos at the moment. Today is about extending hospitality to Kyle, right?” Bethany came to Robin’s side and wrapped one arm around her shoulder. “So let’s find that
caring, eternally optimistic Robin everybody loves and adores so we can go mingle with the guests.”

A smile poked at Robin’s lips as Bethany led her to the door.

“You can nod in humble gratitude as everybody worships your baking skills. Maybe play the piano and hypnotize your guests with not one, but two amazing talents that, on occasion, wreak havoc on my self-esteem.” Bethany squeezed her shoulder. “Everything will work out. You’ll see.”

Caleb popped up from the floor. “Can I play in here?”

“Unsupervised? I don’t think so, dude.” Maybe after ten years of no broken bones, she could forgive herself for letting him out of her sight yesterday.

With Bethany’s arm around her, and Caleb’s hand tucked in hers, she could let go of the uncertainty swirling like chaos. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the crowded café. Groups of people huddled together over cups of coffee, munching on homemade goodies, filling the room with laughter. Her throat tightened. This was the dream she and Micah shared all those years ago, when Willow Tree Café had been nothing more than some sketches on paper. Not empty space. Not losses that outweighed profits. But this. People brought together over coffee and conversation. Her smile took full shape.

Bethany patted Robin’s shoulder and joined Amanda at the espresso machine. Evan sat at a table near the door talking with Kyle, baby Elyse gumming his knuckles. With a tuft of fuzzy brown hair, big dark eyes, and a trademark pointy chin, the little girl was a miniature version of her mother.

Caleb moved toward them, but Robin tightened her grip on his hand, a reminder that he needed to ask permission first. He looked up. She nodded and he tore through the crowd. When he climbed onto Evan’s unoccupied knee, a dull ache stirred inside Robin’s chest. She closed her eyes and let herself imagine it was Micah sitting across from Kyle. Micah with his arms wrapped around Caleb.

Is a mommy and a loving uncle enough for my son, Lord?

She pushed away the pointless question. Micah was dead. It would have
to be enough. She bypassed the counter and walked toward Kyle, eager to get their first postdate encounter over with. Halfway to her destination, the scent of rain traveled through her café and Mayor Ford stepped inside, followed by the man who was everywhere.

Something inside her sparked to life. Mayor Ford coming was one thing, but Ian? Huh-uh. No way. She wouldn’t let them use this meet and greet to further their plans, especially when those plans were a threat to the very ministry everyone was gathered to support. She marched toward the front door with every intention of giving him a piece of her mind, but the Crammers intercepted her and all the words she had for Mayor Ford and Mr. McKay fell away.

She wrapped Carl and Mimi in a tight hug. “I’m so thrilled you came.” She had tried numerous times to get the Crammers to utilize One Life’s services, but the couple—Mimi especially—didn’t accept charity easily. An occasional free scone or cup of coffee was one thing. Free meals, clothes, and job training services were something else altogether.

“We promised we would,” Carl said. “We don’t break our promises.”

She beamed. “Does this mean you’ll let me introduce you to Kyle?”

Carl glanced at his wife and rubbed the scruff on his leathery cheeks. “We’ll meet him so long as it’s understood we’re not asking for no handouts.”

“Of course.”

A throat cleared behind her.

Robin wanted to swat the sound away. She knew who it belonged to. But Carl and Mimi stared over her shoulder, so she pivoted and sure enough, there he was. The condominium man.

“The place is hopping,” he said.

Robin set her hand on Mimi’s. “Why don’t you and Carl get a cup of coffee? Maybe a cappuccino. I’ll introduce you to Kyle in a minute.”

Mimi looked relieved. Carl’s shoulders perked. The two were obviously not in any hurry for the introduction. He led his wife toward Bethany and Amanda, her two baristas, and as soon as the couple fell from earshot, Robin turned to the man beside her. “May I ask why you’re here?”

“Mayor Ford invited me. I couldn’t turn down the invitation.”

“Sure you could. Instead of saying yes, you say, ‘Sorry, but I don’t think that would be appropriate. Seeing as I’m not in town to support One Life or the new director.’ See? That’s not very hard, is it?”

Ian’s lips twitched. “Well, when you put it that way …”

“I’m not kidding around.”

His face melted into something serious. Almost sincere. “Look, Robin. I know we got off to a bad start. I didn’t want the mayor to spring my plans on you like that, especially not outside of church. I was hoping to sit with you in private, where we could discuss our options like civilized adults.”

“Then what was all that sneaking around yesterday? Why didn’t you tell me your plans last night?”

“Because I was more than taken aback by your music. I’ve never heard anybody play like you, and I’ve been to my fair share of symphonies. I know music well.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, you’re an extraordinary musician.”

She took a step back. “Excuse me.”

“Where are you going?”

“To my kitchen. We need more napkins.” And she needed a proper breath of air. She swept past the people and her piano and the front counter. Only when she pushed through the swinging door did she realize she had a shadow. “No customers are allowed back here.”

“I’m not a customer. But as great as the food smells, I’m tempted to be one.” He sniffed the air. “Too bad you couldn’t swap locations with somebody on the north end.”

“And One Life? What about them?”

A shadow fell over his face, swallowing up any trace of a smile. “I am sorry about that, but we didn’t choose the location. We’re building where the city wants us to build.”

“You should leave.”

“Can I apologize first?”

“For what?”

“What I said at church. And at the diner. Sometimes I can get a little competitive. Not a bad quality when it comes to sports. Not the best when it comes to things that are more personal.” He stepped farther inside her kitchen, bringing with him the smell of soap and wintergreen mints. “I can tell, when it comes to your café, that it’s very personal.”

She backed into the stepladder hanging on the wall.

“I didn’t mean to put you on the defensive. I’d love to start over.”

If he thought she would fall for this charming, nice-guy routine, he was sorely mistaken. She yanked the stepladder off its hook and swept wisps of hair from her eyes. “Are you still hoping to buy my café?”

“Yes.”

“Then there’s no reason to start over.” She pried the ladder apart.

He placed his hand on the prep table, trapping her in the claustrophobic space. She clamped her mouth shut and raised her eyebrows at his arm. The kitchen was her sanctum and he was invading it.

“I don’t like being so thoroughly despised. Can’t we at least clear the air before you make your escape?”

“I don’t despise you. I don’t even know you … and I’m not escaping.” She held up the metal contraption. “I’m only trying to get to the napkins.”

“Oh.” He stuck his hands in his pockets. “Then by all means.”

She plunked the ladder down, stomped up a couple rungs, and flopped her hand around the top shelf, searching for the napkin packages. Her mind rewound to her last supply order. Did she forget to order napkins? Her cheeks puffed with air at her dismal inventory skills. Amanda was right. She really needed to improve.

“Do you need help?”

“No.” The word came out like a whip. She rested her forehead on her arm. Just because Ian wanted to get rid of Willow Tree and One Life didn’t mean she had a free pass for rudeness. “I’m sorry for snapping.”

Her hand landed on something smooth and stiff. She pulled it back and found a brown package. “Look, Mr. McKay, I’m not one to play games. I
understand you’re just doing business and your plans to bulldoze this place to the ground aren’t personal. But please know this café is very special to me. I’m not going to sell it.”

Ian seemed to size her up, as if measuring the determination behind her words. She pulled her shoulders back, hoping the ladder made her look more intimidating. “Okay, then. I won’t play games either. You’re right. This condo venture is business. My father’s business. There’s a lot riding on this deal, which means I can’t quit.”

She hugged the package of napkins in the crook of her elbow. “Then it seems we’re at an impasse. Because I’m not going to quit either.”

The door swung open and Caleb came barreling through. “Mommy? Are you in here?” He stopped short of knocking into Ian’s legs. Robin stepped off the ladder, only her foot did not touch solid ground. Her leg slipped out from under her. The napkins flew into the air, and so did her body. Her arms flailed. But before her bottom crashed against the hard floor, Ian snagged her around the waist.

Caleb’s Tonka truck lay sprawled near the napkins. Belly up. Tires spinning.

Ian held her still body for a shocked moment before her eyes widened and she jerked from his arms. He let go and stepped away.

Her son’s mouth hung open like a dead fish. “You saved my mommy,” he whispered.

Robin ran a trembling hand down her shirt. “He did not save me, Caleb.”

The boy bobbed his head, a lock of hair springing from his scalp and bouncing like an overexcited pogo stick. “Uh-huh. You could have broked your arm.” He held up his cast for Ian to see. “I falled off a tractor once.”

Ian rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hey, Bug-man?” Robin crouched low and placed her hands on her son’s arms, gathering his attention. The little boy looked into his mother’s
eyes, his own full of youth and innocence. “What did I tell you about putting toys away?”

“Sorry, Mommy. I forgot.” The kid picked up his truck and peeked around his mother. “Do you like dinosaurs?”

“Um, sure,” Ian said.

“The bad kind or the good kind?”

“I’ve always been partial to triceratops.”

Caleb beamed. “ ’Ceratops is a good guy!”

Ian smiled at Robin. Her son was really cute.

For a brief second, it seemed like she might smile back, but before he could coax it out of her, she looked away. “You go put that truck in the toy chest. I’ll be right behind you.” She patted Caleb’s bottom and scooted him toward the door. As soon as he was gone, Robin tugged at her shirt and screwed her face into the most unintimidating glare Ian had ever seen. He had to bite his lip to keep his amusement in check. Somehow, Robin didn’t strike him as the glaring type.

“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice,” he said.

“For?”

“Saving you from a broken tailbone. I hear they are quite painful.”

Her baby-blue eyes narrowed. “Mr. McKay, I think we’ve said all there is to say. I appreciate your apology for earlier today, but it hasn’t changed my position. Which means our business together is done. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you.”

The rich aroma of melted chocolate and brown sugar soured.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to get out to my family.” She brushed past him and walked out the door, leaving him alone with the echo of her words.

My family
.

Must be nice. A spouse. A kid. She didn’t need a café too.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Robin closed the oven door and laughed, because if she didn’t laugh she’d cry. Or kick her oven and bruise her toe. She jiggled the temperature knob, then poked her head behind the large appliance to check the plug. Not the best way to start a Monday morning.

Joe, recovered from his stomach bug, swung the door open, his sloppy mop of white-blond curls preceding him into the kitchen. “What’s wrong?”