Addie Gets Her Man. Angel Smits

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      He envied her. His mother wouldn’t be interested in joining his dad—anywhere, here or in the afterlife. She’d stayed married to him, just like she’d stayed behind when he’d deployed. She’d earned the military pension just like he had. She’d said it so many times, he could hear her saying it now.

      Addie looked at him, then slowly rose. He had to tilt his chin up only slightly to meet her gaze. She couldn’t be much over five feet.

      “I’m sorry.” She moved to her table and gathered her things. “I didn’t mean to ruin your evening. This got a little maudlin.”

      “No. I interrupted you,” he said. She turned to leave, and he reached out to stop her. “Wait.” She looked back at him. “How about we start over? I’m Marcus.” He stood and put his hand out in greeting.

      Their eyes met. She smiled and took his hand. “I’m Addie. Nice to meet you.”

      He liked this friendly woman. “Can I get you something?” He gestured to the bakery case and the counter.

      “No, thanks. I already have a cup of tea that’s probably half-cold by now.” She took another step, then paused and glanced over her shoulder at him. “But if you’d like some conversation—”

      “I would.” He pulled the chair out that she’d been sitting on. Not sure if it was because of how she moved, or the closeness of where he stood to her, but a soft whisper of perfume pleasantly startled him. The long hair that had tumbled over Addie’s shoulder while she read brushed his arm.

      So soft. He shivered.

      For the first time since he’d moved here, since Carolyn’s death, he didn’t feel quite so alone.

      * * *

      ADDIE USED TO come to the coffee shop when the hours of taking care of Mom had been too long. Now she used it as a transition. The full day of kids and constant activity at school was too drastically different from her quiet home. She came here and read—then she could face the silence.

      Growing up in a houseful of kids hadn’t prepared her for being alone very well.

      “You live near here, right?” she asked Marcus as she moved her book bag and purse to his table. The table was small, and while he wasn’t as tall or as muscular as her brothers, he managed to take up more than enough space in the room.

      “A few blocks. You?”

      “Yeah, it’s just a short walk over that way. Do you come here often?”

      He smiled, and she realized he’d caught her unintended use of a pickup line. Her cheeks warmed, and she ducked her head, hoping he didn’t notice.

      He must have taken pity on her. “Sometimes. It’s a nice break.”

      “From?”

      “A thirteen-year-old boy.” He took a sip of his coffee before saying anymore. “I often wonder if I was like him at that age.”

      “You could ask your mother.” She took a sip of her now-cooled drink. Lovely.

      “Uh, no.” His smile dimmed. “Mom’s not exactly the reminiscing kind.”

      Addie tilted her head just a bit, wondering about him. “She’s not?”

      “No. She’ll gladly tell you how much money they raised for diabetes research in 1989, but she couldn’t tell you what I did for my birthday that year.”

      “Sounds like a woman who believes in helping people.”

      He frowned. “I’d say she’s more interested in the disease of the week and who’s the keynote speaker at the fundraiser.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. That didn’t sound very charitable. She found her way to cope with being alone so much.”

      She couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by all that. She wanted to ask, but if she’d learned anything being a teacher, it was patience.

      “Every family has its issues.”

      “Issues. That’s a nice way to put it.”

      “Hey, I’m not pointing any fingers. I have five siblings and there’re plenty of stories, believe me.”

      “Five. That’s...incredible. Your parents must have been saints or crazy. Ryan is enough challenge for me.”

      She laughed. “A bit of both, I think.” She stared into her tea. Her voice broke. “I keep thinking I should be over the grief by now.”

      The silence stretched. “I don’t know if it ever goes away.”

      The pain in his eyes reminded her of his wife. What had she been thinking? What was wrong with her? She needed to shake this funk. “I’m sorry.” She put her hand on his. “I didn’t mean to remind you—”

      “It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

      “You get used to it, really?” His skin was warm under her palm. It felt good to touch him, too good. She pulled her hand away and he let her, though he watched her movements.

      Their gazes met. His eyes were a bright, rich blue, a contrast to his dark hair. What was he thinking? About his wife? About his son? About the book that he’d yet to open? About her?

      “I really should get home.” She stood and hastily gathered her things. “Tomorrow’s an early day.”

      “Yeah. I should get going, too. Early class, as well.”

      “Class?”

      He shoved the still-unopened book into the backpack. “I teach at the university.”

      “I didn’t realize I was with a fellow educator.” She liked knowing she had that connection with him. “What subject?”

      “History. Military history, specifically.”

      “Really?” Why did that surprise her? Then she remembered the book he’d been reading. “So, the book—” she tilted her head toward the backpack “—that’s for class?”

      He shouldered the pack. “I don’t know yet. Maybe later. Right now, it’s...personal.”

      They headed toward the door, and she expected him to turn in the opposite direction. Instead, he fell into step beside her. “Do you live this way?”

      “Uh, yeah.” He stopped and, with a self-deprecating smile, gestured for her to precede him down the walk. “I guess we’re headed the same way. You don’t mind, do you?”

      “No. I—” What were the odds? It was a small community, one of the carefully planned midcentury communities. Both from small towns, her parents had specifically chosen to live and raise their family here for that reason.

      “What made you decide to move here?” she asked before she had time to think and stop herself.

      “Actually, it was Ryan’s idea.” СКАЧАТЬ