know things weren’t good when you were out there, but could he have helped? Been involved? I mean, the guy’s helping his sister get married. He’s got to be a stand-up guy in some respects if he’s here doing that.”
“Stepsister,” Jean corrected. “They don’t have the same last name. That’s why I never connected the dots on this.”
“Well, sure. I mean, who would think? There have to be thousands of Josh Tylers in the world.” Kelly cleaned leaves off the rose stems. “But he shows up here, now.” She offered Jean a sympathetic smile. “You sure you don’t want a croissant? I’d need three.”
The tiny laugh that escaped Jean made this feel like the first lighthearted moment since this whole tense day began. “No. This and your sympathy are fine. And your discretion. I can’t let this get out—at least not yet.”
Kelly put a hand to her chest. “Cross my heart. Wow. I mean, really wow. It’s crazy. But it could be crazy good, right?”
“Or crazy bad. Josh was a workaholic in the third degree then. I can’t believe that’s changed much. He lived life at a hundred miles an hour back when we were together, and I got left in the wake. I don’t have any faith he can be a good influence on Jonah.” She swirled her spoon in the rich brew. “I’ve got to be really careful.” She considered telling Kelly about Bartholomew’s cruel offer, but opted against it. Why complicate an already complicated situation with a dead man’s cruelty that no longer mattered? “Most of the reasons I had for keeping this from Josh haven’t changed. Only now I’ve got to find a way to live with the fact that he knows.”
Kelly narrowed her eyes at Jean, wiggling the scissors in her hand. “You don’t still... I mean...there’s nothing between you two after all this time, is there?”
Jean put her coffee down with enough force to spill a bit, and Jonah looked up. “Absolutely not!”
“Okay,” Kelly said. “Just asking. He looks rich and handsome.”
Jean gave Kelly a look.
“...And he’s a jerk. We don’t like him or trust him. Got it.”
“I don’t know him, Kelly. I kept out of his life. I wasn’t the kind of person who could stand up to him then. So I just shut down that part of my history.”
“You didn’t look him up on the internet now and then? Weren’t curious who he turned out to be? I’d be cyberstalking the guy if I were you.”
“Dad got sick, and my attention had to be here.” That wasn’t anywhere near a complete answer, and she was glad Kelly didn’t press the point.
Jonah finished coloring one page and began leafing through the book to find another, humming to himself in the strange, off-key rhythm of his that Jean always found so fascinating. How did humming feel when you couldn’t hear it?
I don’t regret the way I brought him up. I don’t regret my choice. I left because I knew what I might want would never stand up against Josh’s big plans. But now that it’s come back to face me like this, I’m filled with fears and doubts, Lord. I need way more wisdom than I have. I need Dad, and he’s not here. You can be my guide here, can’t You, Lord?
“How are you letting them meet?” Kelly’s question pulled Jean from her silent plea.
“Not as father and son, like I said. None of us are ready for that.”
“So how do you do that?” Kelly asked.
“Milkshakes.”
“Milkshakes?”
“Marvin’s. At two thirty. It was the best I could do on a moment’s notice.”
“Well,” replied Kelly, returning the now-full vase to the cooler. “It’s as good a plan as any, I suppose. We’d better start praying now, and I don’t intend to stop all afternoon.”
Jean hugged Kelly. “Thanks. I’ll need it.”
Marvin’s Sweet Hearts Ice Cream Parlor looked frozen in time, as if Josh were on some midcentury movie set. Most of the “old-fashioned” ice-cream parlors he’d seen were shops dolled up to look nostalgic. This was nostalgia—and not by design, but by definition: the drugstore soda fountain, right down to the black-and-white floors and the red vinyl counter stools.
“What’ll it be?” asked the grandfather-aged guy in a white apron behind the counter, his scoop at the ready.
“Oh, give me a minute or two—I’m waiting for someone.” He nodded toward Violet, who was out front on a park bench sharing her entrée decision with Lyle on the phone. He was grateful the groom had called; he needed a minute to collect himself before Jean and Jonah walked through the door. He was going to have to tell Vi at some point, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it just yet, and the multiple levels of weird happening at this “innocent” meeting had him spinning like a hamster wheel. I’m about to meet my son. But not as his father. And I don’t know how to talk to him. I’m dying here, how do I do this?
His own father gave him nothing to go on—their last few conversations had all been arguments, and he wasn’t exactly swimming in happy father-and-son memories. Josh didn’t know anything about being a father, except that he didn’t want to be like his father. Jean had always talked lovingly about her dad. She had a model to work from, and it seemed Jonah had the advantage of a loving grandfather. Don’t muck that up, his gut told him. Try not to undo all the good Jonah’s had. Only...how?
Violet hung up with Lyle, a dreamy-eyed smile lighting her face as she pulled open the shop door. She looked around, the same “is this place for real?” wonder he’d felt upon entering visible in her expression. “Don’t you love it?” she continued. “It’s like some fifties movie.”
The guy behind the counter chuckled. “I get that a lot.” His face brightened. “Hey, you’re our bride, aren’t you?”
Violet beamed. “I am.”
“Well, sugar, your shake’s on the house, then. This the lucky groom?”
“No,” said Josh and Violet at the same time.
“He’s my brother,” Violet explained. “My husband-to-be is in the navy, and he’ll get leave just before the wedding. Until then, Josh is a stand-in and helper. We’re meeting Mayor Jean and her son in a few minutes.”
“Jonah,” said the man, whose classic plastic name tag identified him as Marvin himself. “Sweet kid. I made sure ‘which flavor’ were the first words I learned to sign, you know?” Marvin demonstrated as he spoke. “Well, that and ‘chocolate,’ since I knew that’d be his answer.”
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