Rae pulled out her phone. “I’ll have to let my mom know. And I’ve got to be at the school by seven.”
Hannie patted her shoulder. “That gives us just enough time.”
Gerrit stood rooted in place, dumbfounded. Rae was staying for dinner? How had that happened? Why was she smiling all of a sudden? She was sobbing only a minute ago. He didn’t know how long he could stay on this roller coaster.
Hannie clapped her hands again. “Come on, Mr. Big Shot Cook. Get to work.”
“But it’s leftover night.”
“Then I’ll heat up leftovers”—she put her hands on his shoulders and steered him into the kitchen—“while you whip up some more of those caramel brownies you made the other day.”
He glanced at Rae, who was talking on the phone in a hushed voice. “Now is hardly the time to be worrying about brownies, is it?”
“Oh, my dear man.” Hannie patted his cheek with a grin. “Now is exactly the time.”
RAE PILED HER plate with food. Leftovers or not, she was starving.
Hannie slid the glazed carrots closer. “Here, have some more.”
Gerrit reached for the bowl. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Hannie slapped his hand away. “I was talking to Rae.”
Rae grinned and served herself another spoonful. “Thank you.”
“I’m hungry, too,” Gerrit muttered.
“But you’re not a growing teenager.” Hannie smirked. “So, Rae, tell me about this Community of Hope thing.”
“It’s Community Hope.” Rae sprinkled salt on her carrots. “We meet every Monday and Wednesday and help kids with their homework. Kids who are struggling in school.”
“How nice.” Hannie glanced at Gerrit. “I’ve been so curious about it.”
Her voice was thick with meaning, and Rae caught Gerrit looking down at his plate. Interesting.
“Daisy comes, too,” Rae added. “She’s like the mascot.”
Hannie’s eyebrows rose. “Is that right?”
Rae nodded. “Even Morgan likes her, and he doesn’t like anyone. Well, except for maybe Gerrit. He’s the only person Morgan’ll talk to.”
Hannie glanced at Gerrit again, and Rae didn’t miss the enigmatic expression on her face. What were all these looks about?
“It all sounds wonderful,” Hannie said. “I’ll have to stop in sometime.”
“Good idea.” Rae took another bite. “Not many adults come around.”
Hannie refilled Rae’s glass with water from the pitcher. “What about your parents?”
Rae stiffened. What about them, indeed? They weren’t acting like themselves. They thought she hadn’t noticed. There was a growing fear in her bones that she would come home one day to the worst kind of news. But she couldn’t say any of that.
She felt Gerrit’s eyes on her, but she avoided them and lifted one shoulder. “They’re both busy.”
“What does your father do?” Hannie asked.
“He’s a lawyer. My mom doesn’t work, but my grandma’s not doing well, and Mom has to take care of her.”
“I see.” Hannie reached over to squeeze Rae’s hand. “They must be very proud of you.”
Rae brought her glass to her lips and paused. Proud of her? Only if she kept up with The Plan. Then Dad wouldn’t have any reason to blame Mom for anything, and Mom wouldn’t have to feel guilty about helping Grandma Kate. Sticking to The Plan would keep everything from falling apart.
“Sure.” She said it with more conviction than she felt. Much more. “Can I have some more potatoes, please?”
SOMEWHERE TO HIS left, the bushes rustled as daylight faded, and Gerrit tensed. From his favorite chair on the deck, he shot the most intimidating glare he could muster in that direction. The last thing this moment needed was an ornery rooster.
The noise moved deeper into the woods, and he let his shoulders relax. Good. No interruptions. Just him and Hannie and the sunset.
Hannie leaned her head back in her chair and sighed. “The brownies were even better this time.”
His lips twitched. She was right. They had been delicious. But then why had she insisted on sending the rest home with Rae? He rubbed his belly and frowned. Oh. That could be why. He was decidedly rounder now that his farming days were done.
Hannie, on the other hand, had never looked better.
“I bet they’d go over well at the shop, too.” Her voice held weight and meaning that hadn’t been there before. “Just like the éclairs.”
He couldn’t decipher her words. Her tone hinted at an invitation, yet what would she want with his baked goods at her shop? Sure, they were tasty, and he enjoyed making them. But people visited her store to buy flowers, not brownies.
“Of course, we’d probably have to hire an extra person if we added a coffee-and-pastry bar.”
His forehead wrinkled. A coffee-and-pastry bar? We?
“I’ve been researching the commercial-kitchen requirements,” she continued as if they’d had this conversation before. “There’s a bunch of forms to fill out and a permit fee to pay, but it looks doable.”
He looked at her from the corner of his eye. She looked so peaceful and content, the golden light from the setting sun softening her features and granting youthfulness to her face, but then warnings wailed like sirens in his head. What she was talking about sounded expensive. Commercial-kitchen requirements? Permit fees? If he agreed to all that, he’d only have a couple of years left to live.
But her face . . .
She was happy. Hopeful. A surge of unfamiliar emotion pulsed in his heart. Maybe it would be worth the shorter life-span to give her what she wanted.
No. He couldn’t risk it. It would be foolish to do something like that at their age. He was too old to start a new adventure.
She smiled. “You don’t have to say anything right now. Just think about it.”
His eyes widened. This was why he loved her so much. Why he fell for her all those years ago. She knew him better than he knew himself. Knew what he was thinking. What he needed. She was the other half he couldn’t live without.
Surely she would understand about the money. Understand they weren’t kids anymore. Didn’t have that kind of freedom. But he wasn’t willing to ruin the moment. Better to talk about something
