Page 31 of Penalties and Proposals

“Funny enough, I do know,” I say, plucking the pin off its spot and adding it to my purchases. “I’m here taking photos for the hockey games, but I’m also trying to capture that littlebugger myself. Did you know that its native breeding habitat is actually in Europe, Africa, and Asia?”

“I did hear that on NPR,” Emmy says, nodding. “Your total is $21.99, please. I also heard it was the first sighting in North America since 1997.”

“And I thought I was obsessed,” I say with a laugh.

“It’s not obsession, it’s just knowing things. I like learning, and I have NPR on in here sometimes. Local birdwatchers come in and I get to hear all about it. Or it could have been one of the book club members. Mary-Ellen likes to spout off every now and then, like a geyser in Yellowstone. Eh, small town. We’ve got some chatty locals, you know.” She smiles as she hands over the bag to me. “I hope whatever it is you’re looking for, bird or otherwise, you find it while you’re here in Maple Falls.”

“Me, too, Emmy,” I say, spinning on my heel to head out the door. “Me, too.”

CHAPTER 13

NOAH

When I arriveat the diner, tucked away in an old brick building on Maple Road in Maple Falls, I’m greeted by its old-school feel. Nothing like the places I’m used to around River City, but exactly like what I find on the outskirts of Leesburg. It’s homey, smells greasy, and I’m pretty sure it has some stories. If these walls could talk, right?

A middle-aged woman wearing a bright pink dress smiles as she grabs a few laminated menus and holds them up. “Table for one?”

“Two, please,” I say, peeking at her name tag: Shirley May. I point to a booth at the back by the window. “Shirley May, can we please have that particular table today?”

When she serves me a smile as warm as a hot apple pie, I know using her name has scored me some bonus points. “Sugar, you can sit anywhere you want.” She then hands me the menus and points. “You go ahead and I’ll bring you over a cup of coffee.”

Pleased with myself, I make my way over to the table and slide into the booth. As Shirley drops off my coffee, the front entrance opens and Willa swans in, something tucked under herarm and heading my way with a smile on her face. And she is gorgeous.

“Hey there,” I say, sliding out of the booth and standing as she settles in. My mother did teach me to be a gentleman. Turning to Shirley, I wave my hand in Willa’s direction. “Another coffee, please?”

Willa nods, and Shirley puts her hands on her hips. “I’ll be right back with it. Also, today’s specials are french toast and … that’s it really.”

As she spins on her heel and flounces away, I slide my coffee over to Willa. “Here. I'll take the next one.”

“Thanks,” she murmurs, putting the package on the seat beside her before adding cream and giving it a stir. She takes a sip and sinks back into the cushion. “What a game last night, huh?”

“It’s a new day,” I say, picking up the menu and giving it a look. I already know I’m going to get a loaded omelet with extra crispy bacon and a side of that french toast, but it may as well look like I need to decide. “It wasn’t our finest game, but it was our first one. We now know how we’ll work when we’re out there. We were stiff, but I’m sure tonight is going to be a whole lot better.”

“You sound like a coach.” Willa cocks her head to the side, narrowing her eyes as if she’s sizing me up. “I should know, I’ve sat in a lot of press events and listened to them talking after a rough game.”

“I keep hearing that,” I murmur, quickly telling her about Zach’s offer and the idea of the camp, but we’re interrupted when Shirley May appears back at our table, dropping off my coffee and ready to take our order. She scribbles madly on a small pad of paper as Willa orders scrambled eggs and toast. But her eyebrows almost shoot off her forehead when I give my list of food needs.

“Hungry?” she asks, nudging me with her elbow as if we’rein on some shared joke. “Eating your feelings after last night’s game?”

My jaw hits the table as she walks away, Willa sitting across from me and biting her lips so she won’t burst out laughing.

“That was not nice,” is all I can manage, chortling to myself. “I feel like Dan wouldn’t get this much grief.”

“He’s the hometown guy, what do you expect?” Willa grins as she picks up her joe and holds it in front of her. There’s a sadness in her eyes I hadn’t noticed before.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she starts to say, but then shakes her head and places her cup back on the table. “Actually, no. I can’t say that. I am not fine. I spoke to my mom this morning.”

I wrap my hands around my cup and lean in closer. “Is she okay?”

“The bank has started official proceedings for foreclosure, and she has ninety days to either begin proceedings herself to declare bankruptcy or, by the grace of all the four-leaf clovers, the bank president has also given her another option.”

“What is that?”

“Catch up on her late payments and pay ahead six months. If the bank sees she’s serious about keeping the business going, they’ll stop the proceedings for now and let her get back to life.” Willa sighs, taking the sip of coffee she so desperately needs.

Instinctively, I reach out and place my hand on her free one and it immediately sends a searing feeling through me. Intimate. More intimate than even kissing her. Maybe because when we’re usually together it’s behind the closed door of one of our hotel rooms, talking, and it’s usually at night after practices. Or it could be because if we do go out in public, she has her camera and is taking candid shots of me to use for theAthletic Edgearticle, so most folks wouldn’t think anything of it.

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