Cadence of Cranberries - Valerie Comer Page 0,4

best of her ability. Giving them all the stability and love and training they would have gotten from having two parents.

Two out the door, three to go.

In five years, she could spare some time to think about herself again. Fifty-five wouldn’t be too old to reinvent herself. Would it?

“I prefer that marble.” Charlie pointed at the gray-streaked sample. “It’s the most... serene.”

“Yes, sir. We can do that. In all three bathrooms?”

Charlie gave that a quick thought. “Yes.”

The fewer variations in the palette, the better. He still didn’t know what he was going to do with the house in the end. While it wasn’t as huge as the monstrosity he’d bought Julia in Seattle, it was too big for a middle-aged man alone. Still, the fire hadn’t done so much damage that it was worth bulldozing and starting fresh. Maybe he’d subdivide the lot — it was big enough — and sell the house once it was fully restored. He could stay living in the loft above the roastery.

Or maybe he’d sell the whole business, house and all, which was the way he’d bought it. The couple who’d started it hadn’t really had enough cash to make Redband Roasters everything they dreamed of. The financial worries had strained their marriage, and the electrical fire had finished it off. They’d bailed on everything.

Which meant Charlie’d gotten a good deal on the property and business. On restless days — and there’d likely be many of them over the coming winter — he dreamed of selling out, again, and maybe heading south. Maybe he could broker raw coffee beans from Guatemala.

He didn’t really have to work, but what else was a man to do with his hours?

Charlie took another look around the foyer of the house. The work was coming along well. It no longer smelled like smoke but of fresh paint. The upscale kitchen would go in over the next couple of weeks. Then the remainder of the floors.

He could likely move in by Christmas, but did he want to? So much space for a man alone.

The interior designer’s car sailed down the driveway as he walked across the yard to the roastery. He wasn’t needed there, either. Murray was a genius with the beans and, anytime he’d allowed Charlie to help, the batch hadn’t turned out as well. Murray needed a raise. Charlie couldn’t afford to run this business without the guy.

His personal cellphone rang as he pushed open the door to his loft apartment. Hmm. A number he didn’t recognize. Most of those went to his Redband number. He swiped it on. “Charlie Jalonen.”

“Hi, Mr. Jalonen?” The woman’s voice sounded hesitant. And somewhat familiar.

Charlie’s brow furrowed. Who was it? “Yes, that’s me.”

“Oh, um, this is Winnie Santoro. I believe your daughter is dating my son Dominic. In Seattle?”

Ah. That cleared things up. “Katri. Yes.”

“Dominic asked me if I’d invite you for Thanksgiving dinner, since they’re coming to Spokane for the holiday. I’m not sure if Katri mentioned the possibility to you or not, but that’s why I’m calling.”

“Thanks so much, Mrs. Santoro. But I wouldn’t want to intrude on your family celebration. I have friends—”

“Oh, it’s not an intrusion, Mr. Jalonen. Not at all. We have an open-house policy around here, and we’d love to have you. We can’t wait to get to know Katri. Dominic is quite smitten, you know.”

Smitten was an understatement for how Katri talked about Dominic. She was busy dreaming of a proposal, after all.

The woman pushed on. “Since they both have to work overnight Thursday and won’t arrive until late Friday, we’ll be having dinner about two o’clock on Sunday, after church. I know that’s not the conventional time, but my nephew’s wedding is Saturday, so it’s a busy weekend, and that’s when it fits best. Anyway, we’d truly love to have you join us. Please say yes, for Katri and Dominic’s sakes.”

Well, when she put it that way. It wasn’t like Charlie wanted to give up any time with his daughter when she was here for the weekend. And the friends he’d mentioned? They were a stretch at best. Murray had extended an invitation, but Charlie wasn’t even sure the man’s girlfriend knew he’d done so. In this case, it was the lady of the house making the offer. So that made it legit, right?

“Thank you. What may I bring?” He stopped just before offering to have the meal catered, to save Winnie the trouble on such a busy weekend. But just because that would