Page 30 of The Uncomplicated Café
He gulped the rest of his iced tea and set the glass on the table. “Thank you for taking the time to tell me about Sam.” He now felt like he had a fuller picture.
From Max’s point of view, Sam sounded larger than life, like some mythical figure from storybooks. Logan didn’t mind. He wanted Max to admire his father. But now, in addition to Sam’s supernatural skills at everything from fishing to soccer to belting popular sea shanties, he knew the man worked hard, long hours, but always made time for his son when he could. He’d even helped Iris with tasks around the house like heavy lifting, taking out the trash, and assembling a bookshelf, despite being spread thin. Although, he’d been banned from helping around the garden due to a deadly black thumb.
Logan also learned the man mostly kept to himself. He didn’t do social media or dating apps or much of anything pertaining to technology. And in all the months they’d lived here, they’d never had a single guest over. Even though he’d supplied Iris with fresh fish without asking for anything in return, he’d never accepted her invitations to dinner.
“It was nice to talk about him,” Iris said wistfully. “They had no one in their lives. And Max is so young. I worry that someday Sam will be forgotten.”
“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” Logan promised. “By the way, what happened to their belongings?”
“Someone in law enforcement came to collect everything. I suppose it’s evidence until…” She fell silent, but Logan could guess her unfinished thought.
Until Sam is declared dead.
“Iris,” he said gently. “Based on what you knew of Sam and his skills as a sailor, do you think it’s possible he survived that storm?”
Iris studied the cubes of ice melting in her glass. Finally, she met his gaze, her eyes filled with a profound sadness. “All I can say for sure is, based on how much Sam loved his son,ifhe survived, nothing in the world could keep him away.”
Logan nodded in understanding. That’s what he thought.
Sam Bailey sounded like a man he’d like to know. A man he respected.
How was it possible to mourn a man’s death while also feeling gratitude for the unintended aftermath? Without Sam’s tragic passing, life with Max wouldn’t exist.
And what kind of life would that be?
Chapter Eighteen
CECE
After a long closingshift at the café, CeCe schlepped into her apartment and kicked off her shoes. “Today was the craziest day,” she told Spock, who couldn’t look less interested as he lazily opened his eyes then returned to his nap.
CeCe ignored his indifference. “You would not believe how well Jayce’s parents reacted to the whole fake fiancée scenario.” She flopped onto the couch beside Spock, disturbing his sleep again.
This time, he had the decency to at leastpretendto listen while he slowly licked his paw.
“Mrs. Hunt even seemed excited by the idea.” CeCe’s cheeks flushed as she recalled the woman’s reaction earlier that morning.I’ve prayed for this moment for so long.Did that mean what CeCe thought it meant? Did Karen Hunt want her and Jayce to be together? She’d always known his mother liked her. They got along well. But after all these years of being best friends with her son, did Karen Hunt hope for more?
CeCe couldn’t help comparing Karen’s instant support to her mother’s stinging rebuke. Guilt immediately rose in her gut. She should call. No, they should talk in person. But what should she say?
Suddenly achy, she heaved herself off the couch, exhausted from a morning of sailing in the hot sun followed by a busy workday—not to mention all the emotional stress—and made her way to the kitchen to fix Spock dinner.
She stopped short when she spotted a stunning floral arrangement adorning her small dinette set. The vibrant bouquet boasted tropical orchids and hibiscus, including her mother’s favorite variety, the Blue Mahoe, which wasn’t blue at all, but rather a deep crimson color.
Inhaling the delicate, fruity fragrance of the blooms, she plucked a tiny envelope propped against the crystal vase. The crisp white paper bore the logo from a fancy Los Angeles florist. Her pulse quickened as she slid out the note card.
I’ve heard flowers are the best way to mend fences.
CeCe smiled, pressing the card to her chest. Jayce wanted her to fix things with her mom. And he’d had an extravagant floral arrangement express delivered to aid her efforts. The sweet gesture must have cost him a fortune.
While he may have inadvertently caused all the chaos with his latest shenanigans, she appreciated his thoughtfulness. Even when his thoughtfulness sometimes led to terrible decisions, like faking an engagement to help out a friend.
After feeding Spock and grabbing a quick snack, she hoisted the massive vase into her arms and headed to her mother’s house, hoping the right words would materialize on the way.
When she arrived—miraculously without tipping over the vase on the bumpy drive—she paused on the doorstep. Should she knock? Let herself inside? She and Mama never fought. What was the appropriate protocol for mother-daughter amends?Don’t overthink it. She eased opened the door. “Mama?”
No answer.
Knowing Mama would usually be making dinner at this time of day, CeCe made her way into the kitchen.
