Page 38 of 40 and Flirting (with Disaster)
Adam went up to the counter to order and spent a few minutes talking to Maria and her daughter, DeeDee, in the quiet coffee shop. He’d visited Black Wolf’s Bluff before, so both ladies knew him. When he returned, it was with a plate of fresh, warm, perfectly crunchy chocolate croissants with soft, gooey centers. Her favorite. “These just came out of the oven according to Maria,” he said. “Claire brought them over from the bakery a couple minutes ago.”
“Yum.” Iris swore she could tell the difference between Claire’s cooking and anyone else who worked at Gimme Sugar next door, which might become a problem if Claire decided to shift permanently to overseeing the new bakery up at the Black Wolf’s Bluff Resort and hand the reins of the shop in town over to someone else. Iris would have to make trips up the mountain to get her fix—Claire’s baking was definitely worth it.
She ate a bite of the pastry and swallowed it down with the dark roast coffee she preferred in the morning. Amusement had filled her when she joined Jamie in the kitchen this morning, only to see a bag of Wildwoods Brew special dark roast blend on his counter beside the coffeepot. He liked good coffee, too, apparently. This was her second cup, and though Jamie did a good job of making it, no one made it quite like Maria. Another sip had her humming and lying back on the couch to rest her head in the dim light filtering through the rain outside the window.
“I like that smile, Mom,” Adam said quietly. Earnestly. Iris opened her eyes to look at her son. “I haven’t seen a smile like that on your face in…well”—he rubbed a hand across his forehead—“in a long, long time.”
Since the divorce. An ache started up in her chest. The damn divorce was always there in the background like a spider, waiting to catch a fly in its web. Which was to be expected, she guessed. That didn’t mean she wasn’t upset when they tripped over a moment like this.
But there were better things in her life now. After last night, very good things. Wanting Adam’s take on her situation, she admitted, “Jamie is good for me, I think.”
Adam nodded her way. “I’d say so if that hickey was anything to go by.”
“What?” Her hand flew up to her neck, searching frantically for any tender spots. Adam managed to hold it together for a few moments before he started laughing.
“Sorry, Mom. There’s nothing there. You don’t have to worry.”
She narrowed her eyes his way. “Michael already likes to poke fun. In a good way, I promise,” she was quick to add at Adam’s sudden scowl. “But we don’t need two of you giving us a hard time.”
Adam relaxed, laughed around the coffee cup at his lips. “Sure you do; the more the merrier.”
“No, we don’t.” She swatted his knee. “Behave.”
Her son laughed even harder. “Oh, you definitely have me confused with someone else.”
Oh Lord, what had she unwittingly unleashed? She rubbed at the sudden ache between her eyes, but a reluctant chuckle left her, mingling with her son’s hearty amusement. They shared a look that mingled mutual understanding and the knowledge of just how annoying Adam had been as a teen and young adult, allowing the laughter to fade into a companionable silence. The rain added contentment as they sipped their coffees together.
The moment felt good.
When he finished, Adam caught Maria’s attention with a raised hand. One eyebrow lifted in Iris’s direction. “More?”
Iris hesitated but finally shook her head no. She was buzzed enough.
When Maria signaled back a few minutes later by raising a new cup in the air, Adam walked up to the counter to retrieve the second offering. Iris watched him talking with Maria, and a swell of pride hit her. Her marriage to Kirk hadn’t lasted “till death do us part” like she’d expected, but two admirable, self-sufficient adults had resulted from it. Or normally admirable. A sigh left her as Adam settled back into his seat.
“What’s that frown about?”
Her face had always shown her emotions pretty clearly—and Adam had always read her better than his father. “Your sister.”
Adam sighed too and sipped his coffee thoughtfully. The cream, once a perfect swan on the surface of the drink, formed a foaming mustache on his upper lip. “She’ll come around eventually.”
Iris’s brows shot up. “Right. You didn’t see her when she caught me coming home from Jamie’s house the morning after Blossom’s birth.”
Adam snickered. “The walk of shame, huh?”
She gifted her son with a mock death glare. “If I’d slept with Jamie then—and I didn’t, not that it’s any of your business—there would have been nothing to be ashamed of.”
Adam reached to squeeze her hand, a quick, conciliatory smile on his face. “Of course not. Just teasing, Mom.”
“Anyway”—Iris shook her head, the memory playing out in her mind—“she had an absolute fit. It was…” She winced. “At this point, she’s had the summer to get used to him being around. We’ve gone from full-out tantrums to the silent treatment.”
“That’s progress!”
Considering the alternative, he wasn’t wrong. Still… “Not good progress.”
Adam sat back, rolling his head against the couch. “I don’t know, Mom.” His gaze focused on the ceiling, and this time he was the one who frowned. “Dad fucked everything up, didn’t he?”
That ache in her heart returned. So much had been destroyed because of one man’s dissatisfaction. At times the sadness of that still hit, like now, seeing her son’s grief. But her emotions no longer hit a stop sign there; she could walk herself past it, into a future that, though it didn’t include her husband of so many years, could still hold happiness. Pleasure. Joy.
