But she’d seen women in Mal’s situation before. One woman in particular. Paige’s mother was the master of burying her own wants and needs to please a man. Donna Sullivan never worried about the future—if she’d eventually grow to hate herself or resent the man, or what would happen if the day came when she couldn’t hide her true self and the man discovered she wasn’t who he’d thought she was. All that mattered was that the man not leave her right then.
A few more people wandered in as she poured sodas for the construction guys, so she didn’t get a chance to drop back into the conversation before Katie had to get back to the barbershop and Mallory went on with whatever came next in her non-sick day.
She kept busy until two, when Ava showed up. Ava was almost sixty, though she was fighting a valiant battle against the years with deep-chestnut hair dye and a variety of facial creams she bought from infomercials, but she loved waiting tables and she was good at it.
When given the choice as they’d prepared for the diner’s grand reopening, Ava had chosen the two-to-closing shift. Her husband had died suddenly of a heart attack the year before and she’d said those hours—the after-work, dinner and evening-news hours—were the time she missed him the most, so she’d rather keep busy. Paige hadn’t had a preference, so she was the one knocking her alarm clock across the nightstand at four-thirty every morning.
“Did Mitch come see you this morning?” Ava whispered to her when they passed each other at the pie case.
“No. Why would he?”
Ava winked. “Just wondering.”
As she finished cleaning her tables so she could get the hell out of there, Paige mumbled under her breath. It would be a lot easier not to think about Mitch Kowalski and his killer smile and pretty eyes if people didn’t talk about him all the damn time.
*
“I need a ride into town.”
Mitch looked up from the ledger book he was stuck skimming through since his brother thought Excel was something you did in sports, and saw Josh standing in the office doorway, leaning on his crutches. He looked a lot better than he had the night Mitch arrived in town and his attitude had improved a little, but he was still sadly lacking in charm. And manners.
“Please,” Josh added before Mitch could call him on it.
“You couldn’t have thought of that before I went to the diner for breakfast?”
“I didn’t know you were going, though I should have since you go every damn day. Will you give me a ride or not?”
“Sure.” Mitch could see the muscles in Josh’s jaw flexing as he closed the ledger book and set it aside, but the tension was unavoidable.
It had to burn Josh’s ass a little, watching big brother go over the books when he really didn’t have anything to do with the lodge, but they were all equal owners and he had the right to do it. All he could do was be as cool as possible about it and make it clear he was just getting a feel for things so he could help, rather than checking up on the operation. So far it looked pretty simple. Reservations and income were down. He could see where Josh and Rosie had worked on getting the expenses down, too, and the lodge wasn’t as bad off as he’d thought. By pinching every penny, they’d kept the ledger ink black, but it was close. There was no wiggle room for hiring a carpenter or a painter.
Or a tree service.
“Where we headed?” he asked, following Josh into the kitchen where the keys to the pickup hung behind the door.
“You need to stop at the market and pick up a few things,” Rose called from the pantry.
“You got a list?”
“I called Fran with the list and it’ll be waiting for you.”
Josh rolled his eyes. “I lose the list one time and now it’s like I’m twelve and can’t be trusted to remember milk.”
“You only lost the list once, but you lost it the day before Thanksgiving.”
Mitch laughed and held the door open for Josh. “We’ll be back, Rosie.”
“Leave the market for last, or the half-and-half will go bad while you two stand around yapping with people.”
Josh had mastered the art of climbing into the pickup one-legged, so at least he was spared the indignity of a brotherly boost. Mitch tossed the crutches in the back and walked around to the driver’s side. The truck cranked over hard and he swore under his breath, hoping they weren’t going to add vehicular issues to their list of problems.
“You didn’t tell me where we’re headed,” he reminded Josh.
“The hardware store. I need to drop off a check to Dozer to square up for last month. I was going to bring him a check right after I was done limbing that damn tree.”
He’d gone to the emergency room instead. Mitch didn’t bother asking him if he had enough in the account. Josh would be insulted, and if there was one thing Mitch knew after spending the day looking at the books, it was that his youngest brother might be stupid enough to foot a ladder in the back of a truck, but he was fiscally responsible.
“I haven’t seen Paige Sullivan doing the walk of shame out the back door yet,” Josh said, sounding a little smug.
“I prefer spending the night in their beds. Keeps them from lingering after breakfast.”
“Unless you’ve gotten better at lowering yourself out of your window, you’ve been in your own bed every night.”