Page 25

Safety First

January passed in a series of overcast days that made my foot ache and seemed to match my less than sunshiny disposition. I appreciated the weather-driven backup that bolstered my rejection of, well, everything warm and fuzzy. Except at work. There, I still behaved like the belle of the grocery ball because that’s what my customers deserved. With clearance from BeLeaf, I’d put a lot of my quirkier ideas into action on the floor, staying late and bringing them to life one at a time. Our store was no traditional BeLeaf Foods. We stood out, carrying a charming, small-town vibe. I pushed back against anything that felt too sophisticated or sleek. It just wasn’t us.

My first installation was a partnership with Amazin’ Glazin,’ who provided us with several dozen trays of apple cider donuts to sell throughout the morning. I’d commissioned Henry’s Humble Hammer to make me a rustic-looking stand with a gabled roof that we could nestle in the corner of our baked goods section. It was already wildly popular, and we generally ran out of donuts by ten a.m. each day. The tourists absolutely loved our Cider Shack and didn’t seem to mind the mark-up over donuts they could buy for a cheaper price just down the road. Amazin’ Glazin’ loved it, too, and was our new partner and best friend. I loved improving our business-to-business relationships, and so did BeLeaf corporate. They’d told me more than once to continue to cultivate them.

“Listen, they love what you’re doing out here,” Peter told me one afternoon. “You’re also building trust with each successful idea you implement. They also very much value the store’s unique personality. In fact, the Carmichael family is now personally encouraging its other stores to find small ways to embrace their own communities more, using your branch as the model.”

“Really?” I sat a little taller in the break room, apple cider donut frozen on the way to my mouth. It was the exact opposite of my relationship with Donald Faber. Well, that was something to celebrate. And I was learning to relish the small joys that came my way. I needed them. “I was thinking, next, we could get one of those Chiquita Banana animatronics to sing on the wall above the bananas. People around here would eat that up. So would the tourists. We’d be all over TikTok.”

He stopped stirring his coffee and stared at me. “I’ve learned not to question your instincts, but I can’t tell if you’re serious or not.”

“I’m more serious than a 60 Minutes reporter interviewing a Republican.”

He smiled and sipped the last of his black brew. “Write an email. Plead your banana case. As I said, you have currency these days.” He stood. “Good seeing you. Store looks great.”

“Why, thank you.”

Ten minutes later, I found myself in front of the banana section wondering if it might also benefit from an official name. What if next to the singing animatronic banana, there was a sign that read “The Top Banana” or “The Peel Palace” or even just “Go Bananas!” That last one was growing on me.

“Hey, Savanna. What kind of spell have these bananas cast over you? You been staring at ’em for a good two minutes.”

I turned to see Jake pushing a cart with nothing but ice cream gracing its depths. I squinted. “This is what I do when I market. I speak to the product and it speaks back. These are show bananas.” I motioned to his cart. “Either you have a function coming up, a really fun one, or you’ve developed a sweet tooth that might come back to bite you at your next jaunt to the dentist.”

“We’re doing a little welcome home party for Charlie. He’s out of the rehab facility and doing great. Looking at returning to work at the liquor store next month. Wanted to see if you’d join us for the celebration.”

It had been some time now since we’d learned the news from the blood test. Jake had given me a call after receiving the results. I’m sure it was a lot for him to process in the midst of his son’s recovery, or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it had been a relief. I’d never really know. He’d said all the right things. We’d promised that this didn’t have to change much, but of course, it had. We were friends now, though, and exchanged smiles and hugs whenever we ran into each other. We had a unique connection, and though he wasn’t my dad in the end, he’d been one to me for a little while. That counted for something.

Shortly after that phone call, Jonathan had turned to me from his spot on my couch and posed an important question, one that I’d asked myself from the moment I’d received the emailed results. “So, if Jake Kielbasa is not your biological father, then who is?”

“I don’t know,” I told him. “But maybe that’s okay, too. In fact, it is. I’d rather live with the wonderful memories I have of my own father than chase down some DNA I know nothing about. I have a feeling no one is going to be able to top him anyway.” I sent Jonathan a reassuring smile because there was a divot low on his brow. “Hey. I’m going to be okay. I have a dad, and I’m pretty sure he’s with me a lot of the time.” It’d taken some sleepless nights to come to that conclusion, but I was honestly feeling good with it. It was time to leave the lineage question right where I’d found it.

I turned to Jake, who was waiting on my answer. “Yeah, I like ice cream. I hope you have some chocolate in there. My mom’s favorite.”

“More than a little. Saturday at four work for you? You can come by anytime you like, really. Bring Kyle.”

I dimmed at the mention of her name. I hadn’t rebounded from the loss and thought of her more than I was supposed to, according to the new me. I saw her here and there, always surprised she’d chosen to stick around. She was still out at the beach house and still impressing everyone at the hospital, from what I heard. When Jonathan moved, she gave me a hug in line at Brewed Awakening, and my knees had nearly buckled as the scent of watermelons whisked me back to happier times, like a white-water raft in a fast-moving river.

Returning to Jake, I scanned my schedule, which was empty. Not exactly a surprise. Most of my dates these days were with wine and a murder documentary on my ever-worn couch. “Totally free,” I told him. “But it will just be me. Kyle and I are not…” I sent him a grimace that I hoped filled in the blank.

“No? But she’s great.” He seemed supremely disappointed, which I, of course, understood. Normal people don’t take a step back from a woman like Kyle, even when she’s not at her best. I was not normal people, but rather, someone cursed with endless amounts of loss who couldn’t help but expect more.

“She is. No denying that. We just aren’t as compatible as I once thought.”

“Well, that’s okay, too.” He leaned in. “You know Peggy and I once broke up for three months before finding our ride into the sunset. Could be you.”

“Yeah, but it won’t be,” I said as lightheartedly as possible. Giving Jake hope might leave me with some, too, and that wasn’t helpful.

I spent the rest of the afternoon on my laptop in the office, putting in orders for next week, when a beautiful bouquet of very expensive-looking flowers was carried into my office by Henrietta, who looked incredibly impressed. “Someone is thinking of you, my sweet girl, and I, for one, am dying to find out who.”

I had a feeling I knew. “She shouldn’t have done that,” I said quietly, wondering how much money these gorgeous things actually cost. Henrietta placed the huge vase of flowers in front of me on the desk and presented the card. When it was clear she had no plans to leave, I reluctantly opened it, afraid of what it might do to my heart.

Heard things didn’t work out. Call me sometime?—MJ

I was honestly surprised. Just MJ exploring possibilities, it seemed. I’d let her know that I loved the flowers but was out of the romance game for good.

“From Dr. Kyle?” Henrietta asked with a smolder. “Is she fighting to win you back? Wooing you, as they say? Maybe give her another chance. I’m not sure what went wrong, and that’s not my business, but you had a light in your eyes over the holidays that’s not there anymore. You’re a dark hole now.”

“Ouch.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

“There’s a lot wrong with that.” I placed the card back in the envelope, sidestepping the comment. “The flowers are from MJ, actually. I think she’s testing the waters. Unfortunately, the waters aren’t inhabitable. At least for that kind of company.”

“Definitely not.” Henrietta frowned as if wishing for a redo on that card. It was clear she was Team Kyle and sorely let down. “But what about Dr. Kyle? The waters might be different for her.”

“What about me and water?”

We both turned at the sound of the rich, warm tone. I knew that voice as well as I knew my own. Probably no amount of time would change the dizzying effect it had on me. I sat up straighter, wondering just how much she’d heard.

“She’s here!” Henrietta shrieked as if having conjured Kyle personally. She held out a hand to show me in case I was suddenly unable to observe for myself.

“I see that.”

A grin erupted across Henrietta’s face, because of course it did. She was a woman obsessed with romance novels and seemed to think one was playing out in her midst. It wasn’t. She was looking at two mature adults working on navigating the terrain post-romance , if anything.

“Hi,” Kyle said, offering Henrietta a wave. “That was quite a greeting.”

“Hi,” Henrietta said in a voice reminiscent of a kid in awe of Santa. Seeming to remember herself, she straightened and headed for the exit. She paused in the doorway and placed a hand on Kyle’s biceps. “I knew you’d come.”

Kyle turned and watched her leave before swiveling back to me. “What was that about?”

“I’m not even sure I could tell you. Henrietta is an unpredictable character.”

“Ah. I see.” Her gaze trained on the flowers, which were a third the size of my desk. “Let me guess. MJ?”

“You’re astute.” I laced my fingers and rested my chin on top. God, it was good to see her. I couldn’t deny that part. The room felt entirely different now that she was in it. I offered a soft smile that Kyle returned.

She jutted her chin at the bouquet. “And you’re not interested in those flowers.” It was a gentle statement.

“Not especially. What brings you by? Not that it’s not nice to see you.”

“Milk, most predominantly. With a side of dog biscuits. There’s this adorable mutt with shaggy brown fur that runs up and down the beach. I’ve been hitting him up with treats when he comes by so we can be friends. I think he’s my neighbor’s dog from two doors down.”

“I didn’t know you were a dog person.”

“In a big way. I’d like one, but I don’t want him or her to be lonely when I’m pulling twelve-hour shifts.”

She was thinking of the imaginary dog and what might be best for them, rather than what she wanted. It went along with everything I knew about her.

“Maybe one day. I think you’d excel at the job of dog mom.”

“Best compliment ever.” She tapped the doorframe. “Okay. I’ll let you work. Just wanted to say hello.”

“Good to see you, Kyle.” There were so many other words threatening to burst from my chest, but I held them back, remembering my chosen path. Safety first these days. My new motto.

“About the flowers? I want you to know something. I won’t be sending any of those, but only because what you need right now is space. You’ve asked for it, so that’s what you’re going to get. However, just know that I’m here. Your friend if you need one, and I’m not going anywhere. Okay? I’m here because you are, and that’s not going to change.” She nodded, tapped the doorframe again. “I hope your day is amazing. I’m gonna grab some milk and then sleep for about six hours.”

“Okay,” I said because I had no other response to offer. Sitting at my desk alone, I was off-kilter, adrift in this new understanding. Kyle hadn’t left town because of me .

She was still here, for me .

That was…a new feeling I wasn’t sure how to ward off. So instead, I tucked it away. I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t been really nice to see her in the middle of my day. I turned to my screen because a distraction was definitely in order. I was getting good at utilizing those. Plus, the cereal wasn’t going to order itself while I sorted through the last ten minutes of my life. I clapped my hands in front of the screen and wiggled my fingers as they descended onto the keyboard. “Let’s go, Cap’n Crunch.”