Driftwood Bay (Hope Harbor #5) - Irene Hannon Page 0,31
grab an order instead of cooking dinner? Tired as she was from her first session with the Shabos, she ought to treat herself.
Without further deliberation, she swung into an open parking spot and jogged toward the stand. For once there was no line.
“Hi, Jeannette. I was about to close. I think we’re in for some weather.”
“I agree. Is it too late to place an order?”
“Never. If you catch me with the window up, I’m cooking.” He set about preparing the tacos in his usual unhurried but efficient manner. “How’s everything?”
“Okay, I guess.”
He regarded her over his shoulder. “That sounds a mite tentative.”
“I feel a mite tentative.”
“How so?”
She frowned. Why had she admitted that? She never talked to anyone about personal subjects.
“Um . . . my routine’s been a bit disrupted.” True—and generic enough not to offer any real insights about the reasons for her unsettled mental state.
“Change can be unnerving, no question about it.” He pulled an avocado out of the cooler and began slicing it. “On the flip side, it can also be invigorating.”
“And uncomfortable.” She clamped her lips together the instant the admission slipped past them.
Where had that come from?
If she wanted to keep her private business to herself, she should shut up.
“I hear you. Reminds me of how I felt many years ago, when I decided to leave my small village in Mexico and my grandmother, who’d raised me. She was all I had.”
“If you had reservations, why didn’t you stay?”
“Because of what she said one night while we were sitting outside, looking at the stars.”
When he didn’t elaborate, Jeannette edged closer to the window. “Are you going to tell me the rest of that story?”
“Sure.” He grinned, flipped the fish, and laid out the tortillas. “She’d been encouraging me to spread my wings for months, and she brought up the subject again that night. I finally told her how I felt. She took my hand and said, ‘Life is a risk, mi cielo. Don’t let fear stop you from being everything God intended you to be. Go. Learn. Live. Love. What you and I share won’t change with geography. It will always shine as bright as these stars—even after I’m gone.’”
Pressure built in Jeannette’s throat, and she struggled to find her voice. “That’s a beautiful thought.”
“Also true. My abuela was a wise woman.”
“So you left and launched a new life.”
“Yes—and it’s been an incredible journey filled with remarkable people who’ve touched my heart.” He began assembling the tacos. “I’m sure you understand. You traveled far from your home and began a new life too.”
But for very different reasons.
Charley had left his happy home in Mexico reluctantly, in search of his destiny.
She’d run away from the memories of a life that was gone, seeking to distance herself from people—not establish new relationships.
Her vision misted and she dipped her head to search in her purse for her wallet—and hide her emotions. “I do enjoy the lavender farm.”
“As you should. It’s a lovely, peaceful spot, and you’ve done a remarkable job with the tearoom. Creating a place of beauty and refreshment, along with products that feed the soul as well as the body, is a worthy occupation.” He finished wrapping the tacos in paper and slid them into a bag. “Speaking of the farm—have you had a chance to get to know your new neighbors yet?”
Another subject she didn’t care to discuss.
“Yes—thanks to their dog.”
“Ah.” Charley chuckled. “Toby can be a rascal.”
“You know about Toby?” Was there anything Charley didn’t know?
“Logan and Molly stopped by for tacos on Sunday and we had a long chat. Nice family—in need of a friend, I’d wager. Both of them.”
“Once Logan starts his job and Molly’s in preschool, finding friends won’t be a problem.”
“It’s always better to have friends closer to home, though.”
She scrutinized him as she handed over her money.
Was he suggesting she should be their friend?
Hard to tell with Charley. His manner was as pleasant and easygoing as always. That comment could have just been one of the generic platitudes he tended to toss out.
“I expect they’ll both have plenty of friends soon.” She picked up her bag.
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Molly is a loveable child, and Logan—” He winked. “I imagine he’ll be quite popular with the ladies in town. I believe he’s what you women would call a good catch. Is that the correct term?”
“Yes.” And for whatever reason, the notion of Hope Harbor’s eligible female population descending on her neighbor wasn’t sitting well.