but with me and your family.”
“My job—”
She threw up her hands. “It’s always been your job. Your career. What you needed. It was never about me. A marriage takes two. It means both people have their needs met.”
“But isn’t this,” he said, indicating the coffee shop, “the need you wanted me to meet? Supporting you in your business?”
“It was part of it, yes.”
“And I’m doing that. I’m here, working with you. I’m cosigning on the loan. What more do you want?”
She tore off the apron and tossed it to the side, sliding out from behind the counter. To keep her hands busy, Melanie folded the newspaper Cooter had left behind, fluffed pillows, picked up a couple of stray napkins. “I want a man who knows me. Who knows what I like. What my favorite color is. What I dream of for the future. Who I am, not what he thinks I am.”
Cade was there, his hand over hers, stopping her from grabbing a forgotten paper coffee cup, forcing her to face him. “I know all that.”
“No, you don’t, Cade,” she said, yanking away from him. “You stopped paying attention a long time ago. Or you wouldn’t have asked what you did that night.”
Emmie was striding up the sidewalk and toward the shop. Melanie grabbed her purse and coat, and headed out the door at the same time her daughter headed in. “I’m going to the store to pick up more milk,” she said, knowing there were four gallons still in the fridge, but needing to get away from Cade and the conversation more than she needed to replenish her dairy products.
Cade waited a good ten minutes before he started picking Emmie’s brain. “Your mom really loves this shop, doesn’t she?” he began.
Emmie let out a gust. “Dad, I’m almost twenty years old. If you want to pump me for information, you can get right to the point.”
He chuckled. “You’ve always been too smart for me.”
She grinned at him. “No, I just inherited a little of that lawyer gene.”
He laughed again, proud as hell of his daughter. She had always been able to hold her own in any argument, often winning over her parents when it came to getting the keys to the car or extending her bedtime. During the teen years, there’d been days when her smarts and argumentative spirit had been a nightmare more than a plus, but that had ended as she aged. “Okay, yes, I wanted to see what you knew about your mom.”
Emmie started brewing a fresh pot of decaf. “I don’t know why you’re asking me. You should be asking Mom.”
Cade 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
