Just like I did Mary.
Pulling out my cell, I do the only thing I can. Scrolling down, I find her number and press Send. “Hey.”
“Hey! I was just about to call you. I’m running fifteen minutes late. Can you order?”
“I, uh, can’t make it.”
“Oh. Did something come up?” The disappointment in her voice is causing my throat to close up.
But it’s for the best. Her best.
“Yeah. Can I talk with you later?” I choke out.
“Of course.” She pauses. “Joe?”
“Yeah, Hols?” Just saying her name is like a scalding wound on my heart. I’m deliberately lying to her as I stand in the middle of The Coffee Shop. This isn’t the man I am. This isn’t the friend I want to be.
But it’s who I need to become because I need to protect her the best way I know how.
“Stay safe.” Then she disconnects the phone. I drop my head under the weight of the pain. And the shame.
“You’re not doing her any favors by not talking with her,” Matt tells me from behind the counter.
“I’m protecting her this way,” I mutter more to myself than Matt.
“That woman can protect herself.”
“Can she? She has no idea how awful they can be.”
“And you have no clue what she can handle, son. You’re too new for that kind of understanding. All I can recommend is to talk to her. Don’t throw the best thing in your life away.” Matt heads back into the kitchen.
I make my way to the front of The Coffee Shop and walk out the door, letting it crash shut behind me. I was crazy to think I could broach being something more with Holly today.
Eden and Seth were a reminder of that.
33
Joseph
Frowning at the phone in my hand, I read Holly’s message.I’m sorry. I can’t make dinner. Give Grace a hug for me.
Something’s off. I just can’t put my finger on it. I type back,Everything okay?I wait a few minutes while I’m relaxing in the lounge of the station when her response causes my phone to vibrate.
Turning it to face me, I read,Fine. I told you; busy time of the year. Just need to decompress. Besides, we’ll see y’all at the party tomorrow?
My fingers fly back.Right. Anything we can bring?The Freemans invited my family to an all-out bash at the farm for all of their clients to kick off the summer season. My mother—who hasn’t had her hair done in anything but a trim in longer than I can remember—made a special appointment today for “something special.” Even though I’ve been assured by Holly—and again by Ali—that the dress is spring casual, my mother just glared at me when I suggested wearing jeans.
“Joseph, you will dig out a pair of khakis and a polo or so help me, God, I will go buy them for you,” she threatened.
When I came home from work the other day and realized she made good on her threat, I chuckled and gave her a kiss before thanking her profusely since I couldn’t find anything to wear. And the only other person who I would have wanted to go shopping with is apparently swamped with work.
Wedding season is seriously no joke for the Freemans, I surmise. Taking a quick drink of soda, I think back to the missed lunches and dinners Holly’s had to bail on this past week. Then again, when you have a reputation as strong as theirs, and you get the results they do—Matt wasn’t kidding that day—you have to put it above a lot of things.
Including someone who misses you.
I’m surprised when my phone vibrates in my hand. But when I read the words, I choke.
There’s going to be plenty of food and drink if you want to bring the woman I saw you with Tuesday.