“What’s that, Grandma?”
“Cake pulls are an old tradition. My mom and grandma both had them. My wedding cake had a satin ribbon for each of my bridesmaids,” Lolly said excitedly. “Before Les and I cut the first slice, my bridesmaids each pulled a charm that was popping out from the bottom two layers of the cake. It was her keepsake for the day. I picked each one especially for every girl—ones for good luck, fortune, or romance—and prayed they would pick the right ones. And they all did! Jo picked the charm of little silver bells, meaning she would be the next to marry, and she did—the very next year!”
“I’d love for you to help me when I’m ready,” Lauren said. “I’ve been too focused on school to be open to love, but maybe that will change.”
“It would be my honor,” Lolly said, before looking over at her daughter and Jake. “And I’d be over the moon to see your mom fall in love again, too.”
Twenty-three
“My mother must be in heaven right now,” Arden said to Jake, nervously sipping her beer, as the lyrics to “The Way You Look Tonight” played in the background.
“She loves Ol’ Blue Eyes?” Jake asked.
“You haven’t heard the story?” Arden asked incredulously. “You must be the only one. See that picture by the bar? That’s my mom with Frank in the Rendezvous.”
“Wow!” Jake said. “She’s something else.”
That’s an understatement, Arden thought, surveying the table of Jake’s friends, all of whom were very polite, well-spoken, and nice. Almost too nice. It had been ages since Arden had sat at a table where it didn’t involve work or where someone didn’t have an agenda.
“Would you care to dance?”
Jake’s words interrupted Arden’s thoughts, and when she turned to look at him, the restaurant behind him whirled.
“Oh, me? No! No! I can’t dance!” Arden stuttered.
“Can’t or won’t?” Jake asked directly. “Those are two very different things. Everyone can dance. Most people won’t.”
Before she could say a thing, Jake was already on his feet, hand extended, leading Arden to a tiny square of warped parquet flooring just to the side of the jazz band.
Arden’s body was stiff as Jake took her into his big arms.
“It’s okay,” he whispered in a husky voice. “Loosen up. Just follow my lead.”
Arden felt dizzy and unsteady on her feet, but Jake was strong, more muscular than Arden had imagined. She held on tighter, one arm around his neck, the other around his back. He was solid, like a tree, and smelled of outdoors, a mix of fresh air and—what was that?—Fahrenheit cologne. A tuft of lustrous black hair spilled forth from the top of his plaid button-down.
“I gotcha, I gotcha,” Jake whispered above the music.
Still, Arden couldn’t help but hear the Sinatra line about “breathless charm.”
Must everything in my life have to involve the word “charm”? Arden thought, stealing a look toward her mother, who blew her a big kiss.
“I did a little research on you,” Jake said, swaying to Sinatra. “I’m impressed by all that you’ve accomplished. Paparazzi magazine … that’s huge.”
“Thank you,” Arden said softly.
“Do you write those articles?”
Arden hesitated. “Sort of.”
“Do you write books?”
“I … well … I did.”
“Did?”
“I stopped.”
“Why?”
The room again spun, this time as Arden was suddenly reminded of her failed marriage and stalled writing career.
“Life,” she finally said, looking into Jake’s stormy eyes.
Jake seemed to sense the sadness in Arden’s voice, and he tightened his grip around her waist.
Again, the room spun as Jake began to twirl Arden. She laughed suddenly, a small yelp falling from her mouth as she twirled.
Jake slowed as the song ended and another began.
“How about you?” Arden asked. “Why are you here? In Scoops?”
Jake flashed Arden a smile that was seemingly filled with as many secrets and as much depth as the waters of Lost Land Lake.
“Well, the Reader’s Digest version of my life is that I grew up in Green Bay, and my parents were both factory workers. I saw the toll that took on their health, so I always wanted to be a doctor. I was the first to graduate college, but I could never afford med school, so I became a geriatric nurse. It’s a calling to me. I moved here from Chicago because I came here on my honeymoon with my ex-wife…”
“Ex-wife?” Arden asked, stopping in the middle of the floor, her jaw dropping like an anchor.
“Yes,” Jake said with a rolling laugh, like thunder across the lake. “Ex! I knew it was over before it began, really. I grew up with her. She was my high school sweetheart. But she never liked what I did. She always wanted to live in Chicago, or New York. She wanted bigger, I wanted smaller. She never left the cabin when I brought her here on our honeymoon.”