He mother shrugged and popped an olive in her mouth. “People fail all the time. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth trying.”
To cover her watery eyes, Harper killed the rest of her martini. If she couldn’t locate the real thing, she’d take courage of the liquid variety.
A knock on the front door made her jump up and slide her empty glass on the coffee table. Before she made it to the hallway, Ben’s voice echoed in the two-story foyer. “Wow! That’s the biggest dog I’ve ever seen. Will he eat me?”
Bennett’s rusty-sounding laugh echoed, and she stopped in the doorway of the den to surreptitiously watch her son and his namesake. “He won’t eat you. His name is Jack London, and he’s a perfect gentleman.”
“He named his dog Jack London? I like him already,” her mom whispered in Harper’s ear.
Stepping forward before her mom could embarrass her, Harper put her hand on Ben’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Ben, this is Mr. Caldwell. He and your daddy served together.”
“You knew my daddy?” Ben’s face tipped up with an awestruck grin.
Bennett was leaning toward Jack, his hand clasped in the dog’s fur, as if he sought support. “I sure did. He was my best friend.” Emotions too complicated for Ben to pick up on roughed Bennett’s voice. But Harper understood. No doubt, Bennett could see the best pieces of Noah in her son.
Bennett’s gaze rose slowly to meet hers. “You sure you don’t mind if Jack comes in?”
“I told you earlier, I don’t mind a bit. I have a feeling Ben is going to love Jack and we’ll be fending off requests for a dog this Christmas.”
“Will he follow me?” Ben asked.
“Sure. Just ask him.” With visible effort, Bennett let go of his dog.
Ben backed into the hall and patted his legs. “Come on, boy. Do you want to see my house?”
Bennett ruffled the dog’s ear and said softly, “Go on, Jack. It’s all right.”
The dog trotted after Ben, who laughed and skipped into the den. Her mom hovered in the doorway but retreated after giving Harper a pointed look.
“Hi.” Their texting over the last two weeks didn’t make their face-to-face meeting any less awkward. The opposite in fact. Most of their communication had been about ideas for the coffee shop and Darren’s condition, but occasionally they’d veered toward more personal topics.
Like Bennett’s funny story about the man who wandered into his shop with a waist-long beard and overalls looking for supplies to live off the grid. Or her telling him about Whit, the insurance salesman who called her once a week asking her for a date—to discuss her policies.
She asked him what he cooked himself for dinner, and he confessed to ordering Chinese takeout and pizzas too often. He’d texted her one night at almost eleven to see what she was doing. The answer had been reading a thriller sure to keep her up until she finished.
“I see Noah in Ben, but mostly you.”
“He’s got Noah’s smile and good nature.”
“You’re not good natured?”
“No, I’m stubborn as all get-out, remember?”
A slow smile spread over his face and an answering warmth that had nothing to do with the martini spread through her body until she was tingly.
“Something smells amazing.” He lifted his nose and sniffed like a hunting dog.
“My mom’s famous lasagna. Come on in and meet her.”
“That’s something a woman’s never said to me.”
She stopped short. “You’ve never been serious enough with a woman to meet her family?”
“I guess I haven’t.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug.
Nonplussed, she didn’t know what to say, so she bypassed the landmine. “Come on then. You can meet the real Gail Frazier, retired librarian, nude painter, and martini maker extraordinaire.”
She took his hand and tugged him toward the den. Her mom was on all fours on the floor with Ben and Jack London. Turning and sitting cross-legged, she eyed Harper and Bennett with a sharpness that made her drop Bennett’s hand like a hot potato. Needing some space for her own sanity as well as to squash the weird vibes her mom was putting out, Harper went to give Jack a rub on the head.
Her mom rose like a woman who did yoga three times a week and offered a hand to Bennett. “I’m Gail. And let me apologize for the deception a couple of weeks ago. I tried to talk Harper out of any trickery, but by now, you know what she’s like.”
“Mom, I’m standing right here.” Harper’s interjection didn’t faze either one of them.
“She’s something else, that’s for sure,” Bennett said.
Her mom patted the back of Bennett’s hand with her free one. “Everything seems to have worked out fine.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Frazier.”
“Gail, please. Or I won’t offer you a drink. What’s your poison? I make a mean martini, but I have a few beers rattling around the fridge if that’s more your speed.”
“A beer would be great, Ms.—” At her mom’s tsking, he said on a slight laugh, “Gail.”
“Another martini, dear?” Her mom raised her brows toward Harper.
“Yes, please.”
“Can I have a Coke, Yaya?” Ben piped up from the floor.
“No, but you can have some lemonade. Can you help me, Harper?”
Help? Ha. Her mom sashayed off before Harper could come up with an excuse.
“I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.” She barely kept herself from flouncing off like a teenager getting ready to receive a lecture.
With the efficiency of a bartender, her mom poured beer and lemonade into two frosty mugs, then added the martini ingredients to the drink shaker. “You didn’t tell me Mr. Caldwell is a certified hotty-pants.”
“Do they give certifications out for that? Is there an international governing body?”
The sound of crashing ice as her mom shook the martinis put a pause on their conversation.
As she poured, her mom said, “I’m not an innocent or an idiot. Something is going on between the two of you.”
“He’s helping me formulate a solid business plan.”
“And that’s all?”
“Pretty much.” Harper folded and unfolded the hem of her shirt.
Her mom put a hand on top to stop her fiddling, and Harper looked up. Her mom wore a sad little smile. “It’s okay if you like him. And I mean, like like him.”
“I don’t—Okay, even if I am sort of, kind of attracted to him, nothing can happen between us.”
“Why not?”
“He was Noah’s best friend. He was there when Noah was killed.”
“So, it’s complicated. Are you worried that your subconscious is substituting Bennett for Noah?”
She ran her hand through her hair, fisting the back. The two men were so different the thought hadn’t even been lurking in the shadows of her subconscious. “Well, I wasn’t, but now I am. Do you think I’m substituting?”
Her mother’s gesture was noncommittal. “He’s a very serious sort of man, isn’t he?”
“I suppose. He’s been through tough times.” Was her mom taking a dig at him? “But he can be funny, too. It’s just a dry sort of humor.”
“It wasn’t a criticism, dear.” Her mom peered over her glasses at Harper. “You can be rather serious yourself.”
Ben’s laughter peeled through the layers of confusion and uncertainty. Harper was on the cusp of huge changes, both terrifying and exciting. Part of her wanted to stay locked away in her safe gray house. It was comfortable. But was that fair to Ben? And to herself?
She picked up her martini and the beer and made her way back to the den. She stutter-stepped to a stop in the doorway. Bennett had a deck of cards and was performing a trick. Ben stood between his long legs, his hands on Bennett’s knees, their heads close.
Bennett fanned the cards out in his hand with a graceful dexterity that surprised her. The sight of them together hammered her heart. Underneath the pleasure of seeing the easy camaraderie between them was a morass of sadness. It should have been Noah mesmerizing Ben with card tricks.
“Is this the one?” Bennett pulled a card out of the middle and held it up for Ben to see.