Wedding Vows: I Thee Wed: Back to Mr & Mrs / Reunited: Marriage in a Million / Marrying Her Billionaire Boss. Shirley Jump
looked toward the door where Melanie had exited a few minutes before. “I tried that.”
“Mom’s easy, Dad. Just listen to her.”
“I’m trying, Em, but she’s not talking.”
“Maybe not with words, but she is talking.”
He poured himself a cup of coffee, then leaned against the counter and looked at his daughter.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Emmie said, running a hand through her short, red-tipped hair, “that everything that is important to Mom is in this room.”
He looked around the space, feeling as clueless as if he’d stepped into a foreign country where he didn’t know the language and didn’t have a handy travel guide. Had it gotten that bad, as Melanie had said, that he couldn’t discern much about his wife from a room? From her own business?
“Looks like I have some work to do,” he said.
“I’ll say,” Emmie muttered. But in her eyes, he saw the glisten of tears. She gave a one-shoulder shrug, as if she didn’t care, but he could tell she did.
“I hope you guys work it out, Dad.”
“Yeah,” Cade said on a sigh. “Me, too.”
THE NEXT FEW DAYS with Cade were business only, which was exactly what Melanie told herself she wanted. Yet even as she watched him move around the shop, interacting with the customers, brewing up their favorite blends, she wanted him. Wondered if their next kiss would be as good as the last one.
When business slowed down on Friday afternoon, she went outside to straighten Cuppa Life’s patio furniture. When she was done, Melanie looked at her building for a long minute, then at Ben’s shop next door, and its hand-lettered For Sale sign, put up just the other day. As she watched, Ben reached in the window and took the sign down, sending a friendly wave Melanie’s way. She’d made her offer yesterday, with tentative bank approval, which Ben had said was good enough for him.
Cade had left to pick up Emmie, whose Toyota was once again putting up a fuss and had broken down two miles from the shop. Once they returned, Melanie and Cade had an appointment with a local bank, to find out if she had received her loan or not.
Given the loan officer’s enthusiasm on the phone yesterday, Melanie figured it was probably a done deal—and clearly Ben believed that, too. She’d done it—albeit with Cade’s credit score as a boost and their combined savings as well as the house in Indianapolis as collateral—and now she could watch her business become all she’d dreamed. After a year or two, maybe she’d be doing well enough to open a chain of locations. Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania—those states were just catching the coffee craze and would make great choices for additional locations.
Melanie had no doubt she could capture a segment of that market, given half a chance. That thought made her excited about the future. She could do this—and do it well. Success with Cuppa Life represented so much to Melanie, and also she knew, to her grandparents, who were undoubtedly watching from above with a smile.
She sighed, missing their calm wisdom, their kind, encouraging words, and most of all, the summers she’d spent here. Not to mention the respite those months gave her from the hectic, messy house in Westvale where she’d spent her childhood. A house where Melanie was often forgotten by her scatterbrained mother and her solitary father.
“We’re back,” Cade said, striding up the sidewalk with Emmie at his side. Emmie had her book bag over her shoulder, heavy and bulging with homework.
As she watched him stride ahead to hold the door for her and Emmie, Melanie realized how much she’d started looking forward to Cade’s arrival. She’d gotten used to him being here, and knew when Monday dawned and he went back to the law firm, there’d be an empty spot in Cuppa Life.
And in her.
“How was school?” Melanie asked as the three of them headed inside, feeling oddly like the family they used to be, or rather could have been, had Cade been home often enough.
Emmie shrugged. “Okay. Though I’d rather watch cockroaches mate than sit through another of Professor Beach’s World History lectures.”
Cade laughed. “Glad to see our dollars are funding a good education.”
“How’s Liam?” Melanie asked. Emmie had broken off a year-long relationship at the end of high school and ever since, had been dating casually. It was pretty sad, actually, that her daughter had ten times the dating experience that Melanie had. But she was glad to see it. The last thing Melanie wanted for her daughter was a rush to the altar and a slew of regrets later in life.
“He asked me to go to the movies tomorrow night.” Her eyes shone, the excitement clear in her voice, her face.
“He’s the one from your Psych class, right?” Cade said.
Emmie nodded, clearly pleased that her father had, indeed, been listening.
Melanie looked from Cade to Emmie, surprised. All the years they’d been married, Cade had been pretty oblivious to Emmie’s day-to-day activities. On any given morning, he couldn’t have named her favorite cereal, the boy who’d given her that all-important first kiss, or who was taking her to the prom.
She and Cade had joked about being ships that passed in the night, but after a while, Melanie got tired of being another buoy in Cade’s busy life.
“You guys have been talking,” Melanie said, as Emmie headed to the rest room.
“It’s hard not to when we’re working together.” He watched his daughter’s retreating form and smiled. “She’s a great kid, isn’t she?”
“Yeah.” Melanie grinned. “And it’s nice to see her attitude improving this week as well.”
“I missed a lot with her,” Cade said, then sighed.
“I should have been here more. Spent more time with her.”
Melanie could have jumped on him then, pointed out the mistakes, the weekends he’d spent at work instead of at school events, or the business trips he’d taken, leaving Melanie to help Emmie with a science project on tornadoes. But she didn’t.
Regret swam in his dark blue eyes, coated every syllable. Instead of recriminating, Melanie stepped forward and laid a hand on Cade’s shoulder. “There’s plenty of time ahead,” she said softly.
He nodded, mute.
“Working here was one of the best things you could have done to get to know Emmie,” she went on. “When she was a little girl, we had some of our best mother/daughter conversations in those odd moments. Like riding in the car or folding laundry.”
“You and she always had that closeness,” Cade said, turning to his wife. “It made me feel like an outsider sometimes.”
Melanie blinked in surprise. “It did?”
“When I came home, I always felt as if I’d walked in after the punch line of the joke,” he said, his gaze on some distant point in the past. “You and Emmie are like two peas in a pod.”
“She was an only child, Cade. That meant all she had was me.” Melanie realized what she’d just said and hurried to make it up. “I meant, you weren’t home that much and—”
“I know what you mean.” His attention swiveled back toward her, and in that second, a memory slipped between them, written in that unspoken mental language of longtime spouses. “It almost wasn’t that way, though, was it?”
“Cade—”
“Are we ever going to talk