Lakeside Family

Josie forced a smile of thanks and strode out of the office, her leather boot heels clicking against the tile. She headed for the front door, passing the row of framed staff photos, then paused. Scanning the faces, she searched for Nick’s. Had he changed much in the past decade?

There. Bottom left. Out of all the photos, he was the only one smiling. Glare from the overhead lights reflected off the glass, blocking a good look at his face. She glanced over her shoulders. Seeing no one in the corridor, she stretched on her tiptoes and pulled his picture down.

With one shoulder leaning against the wall, she stared at his face, turning back time to her junior year when he’d meet her at her locker, sling an arm over her shoulder and walk her to class. After classes, they’d hang out in the school newspaper office and work on the Ridgefield Review.

She traced a finger over the glass covering the one-dimensional image of the only man she loved enough to hand over her heart. He returned it in pieces before he left for college, claiming it was for the best.

Yeah, for him.

“I don’t think those are to take.”

A deep voice corded with humor startled her. She hadn’t heard anyone walking behind her. Heat scalded her throat at getting caught staring at her past.

She jerked away from the wall and stretched to hook the frame back on its anchor. The picture caught on the nail. She dropped her hand only to watch the slow-motion descent of the frame smashing to the floor.

“Oh, no!” She crouched and picked up the frame. Cracks webbed from corner to corner, covering his face. A piece of the wood broke off and skittered across the floor. The man trapped it under his polished black loafer.

Josie wanted to pull her coat over her head and scurry out of the building. Unfortunately life taught her that running from her problems solved nothing.

She stood, refusing to make eye contact with the guy until her face no longer resembled the strawberry smoothie she’d sucked down that morning. Gripping the picture, she turned to face him.

And nearly dropped the frame.

The man standing in front of her with hair the color of her finest Columbian roast and chocolate-drop eyes

crinkling around the edges like her homemade snickerdoodles mirrored the image pressed under the cracked glass. And that smile. It could melt the frosting off her homemade éclairs. For a second, the warmth in his eyes made her feel safe.

Instead of a black-and-white Ridgefield Panthers letterman jacket and jeans, he wore a black suit, white dress shirt and blue-and-green diamond-patterned tie. The lanky boy she had fallen in love with over ten years ago had matured into a man who had the potential to break her heart all over again.

“Nick.” His name came out as a gasp. Her heart raced.

“Yes, but most of my students call me Dr. Brennan.” He took the frame from her hands and shook his head. “It’s official. I’ve cracked.”

Didn’t Campus Barbie say he was out?

“I’m, ah, not one of your students.” She swallowed back the rest of her words. She couldn’t blurt out her reason for coming. Not here in the middle of the hall. She pulled out her gloves and slowly slipped them on, hoping to warm her suddenly chilled fingers.

“Oh, sorry. I just assumed you were a student. Do you make it a habit of removing pictures from walls?”

Was he laughing at her?

“What? No. I just...” What could she say? She wanted a better look at the man who broke her heart? A better look at the man she desperately needed to save her daughter’s life?

He glanced at his watch then the door, as if he had to be someplace. “I was just kidding. I’ll take this back to my office and get it fixed. I need to head out to an appointment. Watch out for falling photographs.” He walked backward a few steps, sent her another one of those dazzling smiles, then rotated on his heel to head back to his office.

“Wait.” She hurried to catch up with him, trying not to let the fact that he didn’t recognize her weigh down her heart.

Nick stopped and turned. His eyes swept over her. He stiffened. She saw the second recognition lit the lightbulb inside his head. A slow smile spread across his face. “Josie Peretti.”

Her stomach shimmied. Only Nick could make her name flow like melted caramel.

“You look amazing.”

“Thanks. Listen—”

“I’d love to stay and catch up, but I really must run. I’m late for an appointment.”

She fished through her purse for another business card, took ten precious seconds to scrawl her cell phone number on the back and thrust it at him. “Please call me after your appointment. It’s important. Please.”

Nick glanced at the card, then tucked it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “Okay. I’ll do that.”

Josie’s shoulders sagged as he disappeared into his office. Would he follow through? The Nick she knew once upon a time was always true to his word. She had no idea who he had become.

But it had to be enough.

Okay, God, you opened the door. Please push him through. For Hannah.

Heart thrumming, she hurried back to her car and unlocked it with the remote. As soon as it chirped, she wrenched the door open, hurled herself behind the wheel and slammed the door. She drew in several deep breaths.

If it weren’t for Hannah, she’d walk away and not look back. But it didn’t matter what skeletons the past held, she needed to dig them up to save her daughter’s life.

* * *

Her phone rang constantly when she barely had time to breathe, but when she wanted...hoped for a call, it remained silent.

With her back pressed against the stainless-steel counter, Josie pulled her phone out of her pocket, checking for the hundredth time to see if the ringer was turned up, or if a call had come in but she’d missed it.

Volume was fine.

No calls.

Focus on something else.

She sighed, shoved the phone into her pocket and pulled on two pink pig-shaped oven mitts before reaching into the oven for the browned blueberry muffins. She set the pan on top of the stove next to a cooling apple pie. Sweet sugar scents danced with the spicy cinnamon. Reaching for the baking sheet lined with rows of scooped chocolate chip cookie dough, she slid it in the oven, closed the door and set the timer.

Agnes Levine, her assistant manager, breezed through the swinging kitchen door, leaving a fragrant trail of perfume behind her. With mugs dangling from her ringed fingers, she balanced a stack of plates and set them in the dishpan next to the sink. “Dining room’s cleared, Sugar Pie.”

“Thanks, Agnes.”

Agnes pulled the apron over her head and hung it on the hook by the industrial-size stainless side-by-side refrigerator. “No call yet?”

“Not yet. Guess I’ll have to call the department on Monday. I can’t afford to drive all the way out there again.” Josie filled the deep sink with soapy water and added a splash of bleach.

“You think Sorority Sally passed on the message?”

Josie’s lips twitched at Agnes’s nickname for the student in Nick’s office. “Campus Barbie? I hope so. We’re running out of time.”

“How’s Hannah doing?”