again for last night.”
“No worries. That reminds me—I have your backpack. You left it in the truck.”
“Oh, I did, didn’t I. Totally forgot about it.”
“I’ll have one of the boys get it.” He passed behind her to call out to his sons.
Johanna shivered. Lowering the heat, she stirred as if her life depended upon it not sticking to the bottom.
Charlie peered over her shoulder. “Smells good. I don’t think I’ve ever had anything but the packaged stuff.”
“I doubt there’s even any real cocoa in that.”
“Probably not. You never struck me as the cooking type.”
“I never was.”
“But you own a bakery.”
“An impulse decision, not a lifelong dream,” she admitted. “I was vacationing in Wildwood, and decided to check out Cape May. I fell in love with the town, the Victorian houses and quaint shops. It’s real old-world, you know? Even in the height of summer. When I saw CC’s for sale, I…” She bit the truth off there.
Charlie answered for her. “You bought it.”
She shoved him playfully. “I hocked everything I owned and mortgaged six of my nine lives, but I did.”
“CC’s, huh?”
“Cape Confectionary. It came with the name. CC’s for short.”
“Ah, I see.”
“After all my failed attempts at earning a living, this one has turned out to be something good. Who’d have thought I would have a knack for baking? In the summer, I do breakfast and lunch too. It gets kind of crazy, tourists from all around the world there to see the famous Jersey Shore. It’s like no place else on earth. You should bring the kids down.”
Her cheeks were burning before the words were out of her mouth. Johanna took the pan off the burner, kept her back to him as she poured three mugs. Stomping on the small porch off the back of the house signaled the boys’ arrival. Another moment and they were in the kitchen, stripping off snow gear in the boisterous way of young men.
“Caleb, Will, this is Johanna Coco. Johanna, two of my boys.”
“Hi, again,” Caleb waved, his smile wide. “We met through the window already. Here’s your backpack.” He retrieved it from the pile of coats and scarves. “Got a little snowy.”
“Thanks.” She held out a steaming mug. “I’ll trade you.”
He took it with an enthusiastic, “Thanks,” and flopped onto a kitchen chair. His brother, dark-haired as Gina, did not share his enthusiasm, but he took her offering and sat beside his father at the table. Johanna placed the last cup in front of Charlie.
“What do we owe you gentlemen for your services?”
“This’ll do.” Charlie sipped. “Come on, Jo. It’s a favor to friends.”
“Last night was a favor,” she said. “This is not. You have to let me pay you something.”
“No I don’t.”
“Charlie.”
“Johanna.” He laughed. “Seriously. Don’t make this awkward.”
“Hey, I want some.” Julietta blew through the room, took the pan from the stove. She poured herself the little bit left. “Dang.”
“I’ll make more, Jules.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Caleb raised his empty cup. “Ow! Quit it, Will.”
“You’re being rude.”
“No, I’m not. It’s a compliment. How’s a compliment rude?”
Will rolled his eyes and shook his head. He reminded Johanna of Nina at his age, when anything and everything her sisters did was somehow embarrassing to her.
“If your dad won’t let me pay you, then I think more hot chocolate is an absolute must. Will? You want some too?”
He looked into his cup. “Well, if you’re making it anyway…”
Johanna started mixing ingredients again, silently happy to keep them around a little while longer. Her slip was already fading. As if Charlie would ever bring his kids to Cape May, of all places. As if anything about that teenage-summer still mattered to him at all.
“We always pay you,” Julietta was saying. “Don’t be stupid.”
“This is different. Don’t start with me, Jules.”
“I’m not starting anything. You are.”
“What are you, twelve?”
Johanna stiffened, but Julietta laughed and shoved him. “Then come to Emma’s for dinner tonight. We’re all going to be there. If you won’t take money, we can pay you in food. My sister’s as good a cook as Gram was.”
“Thanks but—”
“Charlie, I can’t take this much rejection in one day. You know I’m special that way. I’ll square it with Emma. Come. It’s the least we can do for all you’ve done the last few days.”
Charlie’s shoulders slumped but he smiled fondly. “All right. Thanks.”
“Great. Be there at seven. Bring wine.”
Johanna stirred and stirred. The action soothed. She poured out cups while the others chattered. Will and Caleb were trying to convince their dad to take them snowboarding. Charlie said Charlotte could do it. He’d already promised Tony and Millie he’d make a snowman with them. Julietta told the story about the time Emma went up the mountain on some school trip, and how she nearly killed herself and five others by falling in the middle of the slope. Their words were far away and apart, as if she were a ghost listening from the shadows in an altered world. Johanna tried to shake herself out of it. She hadn’t needed this slip from reality in a long time. Of course, being in Bitterly would trigger it.
The scraping of chairs on the hardwood restored her hearing, her sense of place. Johanna found herself helping Charlie into his big jacket.
“Sorry about the floor.” He pointed to the puddles around his sons’ discarded boots. “I’ll have the boys—”
“Don’t worry about it. Julietta will do it.”
“You sure?”
“I’ll make her more hot chocolate.”
He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in deep creases there for as long as she could remember. Back then, they smoothed as quickly as they formed. Today, they did not, and Johanna liked it quite a lot.
“I’ll
