Page 3 of Second Chance in Charlevoix (Charlevoix Dreams #3)

The poor guy looked at her as if he was suspicious. Izzy couldn't blame him. She hardly ever asked about his mother. But Irene would be a big part of the picture. “I imagine she's kind of bored in that house alone, right?”

“Bored? Oh, I don't know. Mom manages to keep busy. She's into knitting. Afghans on every chair, you know? She donates them to bazaars. At night when I'm getting dinner ready, I can hear her needles clicking.” And he smiled.

Skipper cooked dinner? This was a new twist. “Do you make dinner every night?”

There could be more benefits to this arrangement than she'd imagined. But Izzy immediately felt embarrassed. Of course she’d help with everything, the way she did at Sunnycrest. But if she were truthful, Aunt Cate usually figured out dinner ahead of time.

Either she cooked one of her popular dishes, like Bolognese or clam risotto, or they ordered out.

With Marlowe and Sam on board now, that might change.

“Sometimes I cook,” Skipper said. “But nothing fancy. My mother might make soup while I'm at work. Lately she's kind of lost her sense of taste. I secretly add some salt and maybe some spices.”

“Lost her sense of taste?” Izzy couldn't imagine that. Irene Malone had been known for her soups and stews and all kinds of wonderful, practical meals.

“Yeah, her doctor says that it's part of her Parkinson's. Really a bummer.”

“I'm sorry about that. Is that new?” This might throw a wrinkle into things.

“Yeah.” Skipper sucked in a breath. “That's how it goes.

She's on some medications to help with her tremors.

Not too steady on her feet. But the taste thing?

They can't do much about that.” By that time, Skipper had cut the pastry into neat but generous squares.

Taking a mold, he indented a shallow circle in each piece.

Then wielding his pastry knife, he laid down a generous layer of almond paste within each circle.

This was no fair. The smell of that almond paste was incredible.

She could hardly tear her eyes away. Next was the pear layer and he grabbed a few pears from the metal bowl.

Opening a drawer, he found the peeler and began to peel the pears.

It was amazing how he ended up with one complete spiral with each pear.

The combination of pear and almond perfumed the air.

She could hardly wait to taste one of these tarts.

“From what they say, it could be worse.” While she was salivating, Skipper’s mind was still on his mother.

She could tell he was worried. Skipper and his mom had always been close, especially after his father’s death.

That’s what brought him back to town––taking care of his mom.

Looking like he was doing heart surgery, Skipper sectioned each pear and cut delicate slices, arranging them on the almond base.

“Right now she has to rest a lot. The doc said that was pretty important.”

That did not sound good, and Izzy’s hopes wavered.

Poor Skipper. His sister Ainsley lived in California.

Would Izzy be asking them to do the impossible?

But then again, Holly was at daycare during the day.

That might help. Izzy would be there in the evenings, breathing the fresh air with her baby instead of solvents and sawdust. She had to take a chance.

Taking a sip of her coffee, she decided to nudge the conversation in a different direction. “ The guys are working on Marlowe's bedroom. You know, the renovation.”

“How’s it going?” Backing away from the worktable, Skipper surveyed his work and took some lemons from the refrigerator. “So Marlowe's bunking with Sam for a while, right? Did your sister get here?”

“Yep, she’s here. Waiting for her furniture.

Of course, most of it will go into storage.

Things are awfully crowded at our house, Skipper.

” She slowed her voice so he caught every word.

How could a pear tart catch his attention like that?

Izzy plunged back in. “Sunnycrest has sawdust floating everywhere. I’m finding dangerous stuff, like screwdrivers, staples and nails. ”

Okay, that was exaggerating a little but the words had their effect. Skipper looked up and his eyes narrowed. “The workers should be more careful. You don't want the baby picking up stuff like that. She could poke her eye out. Or worse.”

Time to tread carefully. “I wish she didn't have to be around all that, you know? Her little lungs and all that sawdust. She’s been coughing and sniffling.” She was tempted to glance up at him from lowered lashes.

But no, she was not going to use that flirty high school trick with her ex-husband.

Back then they were teenagers. And today?

She wanted this to be adult to adult. Standing squarely on her two feet, Izzy faced him .

Leaning against the table, Skipper worked the corner of his lips with his teeth. His old habit meant he was deep in thought.

“I just wish there was some other place that we could live for a little while. Somewhere safe.”

“How long will the work be going on?”

“For most of the summer, I think. I'm not really sure. But I can't afford to rent a VRBO or something like that. I mean, in Charlevoix the rent would be sky high.”

“Probably.” He nodded. “You think it'll be that long? The whole summer?”

“You just never know. I want Holly to be healthy.” Those words came straight from her heart. Tears thickened her throat and threatened to spill from her eyes. Skipper could probably see that. The man knew her better than anyone, except her family.

“You don't suppose...” Izzy began at the same time as Skipper said, “What would you think of...” Sucking in a breath, Izzy sent up a silent prayer that they were on the same track.

“Why don't I talk to my mom tonight?” Skipper hesitated while she hung on every word.

Setting her coffee on the worktable, Izzy leaned closer “What were you thinking, Skippy?”

This was not fair and she should be ashamed. She hadn’t called him that in years. Skipper gave a little twitch of those shoulders that had gotten so broad. He turned to face her full on and she swallowed hard.

“Maybe I better check this crazy idea with you before I talk to my mom. Would you consider moving into our house, just for a couple months? There's a big guest room at the back of the second floor. My room is next to it, but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Okay, she’d let that go. Izzy wasn’t sure that his mother would see it like that.

But Skipper’s mind was elsewhere. “Mom has been sleeping in the big bedroom on the first floor. She can't take those stairs anymore. There’s plenty of room upstairs.”

“Oh, Skipper! What a wonderful idea. Would you really consider that?” Izzy actually had goosebumps. This might work.

“Happy to do it.” Skipper smiled at her the way he used to when she got overexcited. When he’d pulled out that tiny diamond ring on the beach way back when, she’d felt just this thrilled.

But this time she wasn’t smiling with excitement.

No, Izzy was smiling with relief. How would she have faced her family if Skipper hadn’t agreed to this arrangement?

She’d have to say that he’d gone back on his offer.

The offer she hadn't mentioned yet. Izzy was beginning to feel a tinge of guilt when the back door flew open and banged shut.

“Sorry I'm late.” Debbie bustled into the kitchen and hung up her bag and jacket. The kitchen had become silent. Turning, Debbie took one glance at Izzy and Skipper. “Hey, am I interrupting? Is something wrong?”

“Nope, not a thing.” Izzy straightened her apron and cleared her mind.

Skipper chimed in at the same time. “Absolutely not.”

Debbie's eyes traveled to the worktable and she frowned. “You've been talking about those almond pear pastries, Skipper. But I don't think I can sell brown pears.”

Skipper and Izzy glanced down, and Debbie headed for the front.

Sure enough the carefully placed pears looked a little brown.

Their conversation had kept him from adding the glaze.

Shaking his head, Skipper swept both hands over the tarts and threw them into the trash.

“Okay, I’m starting over. With the pears. ”

“Thanks so much,” Izzy said, feeling really sorry about those pears. The tarts had looked amazing.

“No problem.” Skipper gave her one of his crooked smiles.

She’d always been a sucker for that smile.

“Time to open the door.” Feeling like she was running away, Izzy rushed down the hall.

But when she reached the front, Debbie had already unlocked the door.

Coffee mug still in her hand, Izzy was surprised to find Josh McCall standing there.

Sam had decided to call a halt to what Izzy thought was their budding romance.

The decision was silly, or so Izzy thought.

They’d been high school sweethearts, separated by time and circumstances.

But now Josh was a widower, and lately he’d been haunting Coffee and Cupcakes.

His endless questions about Sam were pretty pitiful.

She felt sorry for the guy and wished Sam would wake up.

“Can I get you something, Dr. McCall?” She always teased him about being an orthopedic surgeon. Did Sam realize what a big deal Josh was in this town? Or did she just think of him as that boy from the beach? The guy she’d fallen in love with back in high school.

Josh gazed around as if he'd forgotten where he was. “Coffee?”

“Yep, just give me a minute.” She set her own mug on a table. “Black?”

Nodding, Josh ambled over to the display case. The man looked like he could use a chocolate croissant. Didn’t chocolate fix everything? A couple entered the shop and went straight to the glassed case.

“Debbie, let Josh sample one of those croissants Skipper baked this morning.”

Grabbing a tissue, Debbie sliced a croissant into small strips and laid them on the top of a tissue on the counter .

“Croissants?” the woman asked, turning to her husband.

“Make that two,” the man said to Debbie. He glanced over to the sideboard that usually held the carafes of coffee. “Coffee ready?”

“Coming right up.” Going over to the sideboard, Izzy grabbed two of the empty carafes.

“I'll be right back,” she told Josh. When she got to the workroom, she filled one carafe with black coffee and the other with caramel macchiato. “Josh McCall is back again.”

“Pathetic,” Skipper said as he fanned thin slices of pear on the almond paste and layered clear glaze on top. “The poor man.”

“They just don't want to put the cart before the horse.” Did that sound as stupid as the words felt to Izzy?

“You know he's just here for more information on Samantha.” Skipper slid the baking pan into the oven with great care. He watched over his pastries like an anxious father.

“I have to be so careful about what I say.”

“You? Really?” Skipper gave her the grin that said he didn’t believe her.

She threw her ex an offended glance. One carafe in each hand, Izzy trekked back to the front and poured Josh a mug of hot coffee.

The poor man needed something before he began seeing patients.

His eyes were ringed with gray circles and his oxford cloth shirt looked rumpled under the brown leather jacket.

What must his patients think? Maybe he covered it all with a crisp white coat.

She could only hope. While Debbie rang up the couple’s purchases, Izzy presented Josh with a chocolate croissant.

“Hey, thanks.” But he tore into that delicacy like it was hardtack. What could she do about this?

Sliding his full coffee mug onto the table, Izzy grabbed her own coffee and planted herself across from him. She was a woman with a mission. “Sam arrived yesterday.”

“Is she here to visit again?” Josh said in a resigned voice. Obviously Sam and Josh weren’t talking or even texting.

Sam might kill her but Izzy couldn’t stand seeing Josh like this. “Nope, here to stay.”

Josh had been lifting the mug to his lips but it never made it. His eyes flew open, his hand shook and coffee spilled onto his shirt.

That’s what usually happened whenever Izzy stepped in.