“How about dessert?” Jo asked, reaching to remove her friend’s plate from the red Formica counter. “I’m running a special on hot fudge sundaes.”
“I couldn’t, not after that enormous veggie burger,” Junie said, sweeping her long, sun-lightened hair over the straps of her aquamarine cotton sundress. Yet she plucked the last sweet potato fry from the plate before Jo took it away.
“What’s your secret recipe for these fries?”
Jo smiled at Junie, who lived across the street from her on Sunshine Avenue. “It’s my special herb blend. Rosemary, oregano, and garlic with sea salt and pepper. Like the herbs in your garden.”
“I bet that would be good on the steaks Knox makes. We’re thinking of having a barbecue this weekend or next. Why don’t you come over with—well, I mean, anyone you like.”
Jo caught her meaning and lifted an eyebrow. “Slim chance of that.”
“Have you heard anything from him?”
“Not a word.” Jo wiped crumbs from the counter and quickly shifted the conversation. “How are you and Knox doing?”
Junie’s deep green eyes sparkled. “Never better.”
“Enjoy it. I mean that.”
Junie furrowed her brow. “Listen, Blue is a good guy, but if something happened back in Chicago, I’m here for you. I know there’s someone out there for you.”
“I thought I’d found him.” Jo quirked a corner of her mouth to make light of the situation. “I’m in no hurry, though. I’m fine on my own. After seeing what MaryJo went through in her divorce, I’m not settling for anyone. Hey, how about a white chocolate macadamia nut cookie? My baker, Dulcie, makes them from my grandmother’s recipe.”
Junie’s expression brightened. “Wrap one up, and I’ll take it to go. I have a meeting with a vendor at my shop to view their new lines.”
When Junie reached for her purse, Jo shook her head. “This one’s on me.”
“Thanks,” Junie said. “Want to go for a walk on the beach after work?”
“Sounds great. See you there.”
They agreed on a time, and after leaving a tip on the counter despite what Jo said, Junie whisked out the door.
In this small lull after the lunch rush, Jo restocked the bar with napkins and cardboard coasters emblazoned with her new Cuppa Jo’s logo on them. Junie’s sister Maileah had designed it for her.
This was part of a much larger plan she had for the diner. She had promoted one of her servers to assistant manager after being without one for a while. Now she could work regular daytime hours and take weekday evenings off. In theory, that is. Her plan was proving more challenging than she’d thought it would be, and she still worked Friday and Saturday evenings, the diner’s busiest times.
Yet, she didn’t mind. This is what she loved doing. With the live music and all her friends gathering at the diner, it was more like a party than work.
For years, Jo had worked diligently to make Cuppa Jo’s the favored place for breakfast, burgers and fries, and other casual fare on Crown Island. Her friend Adrian played guitar most weekends, and sometimes she featured other musicians.
She was happy for Junie and Knox. Her friend adored Knox’s daughter, Penny, who was going into second grade in the fall. Junie had confided in her that she and Knox had been talking about marriage and expanding their family. Junie was thrilled because she hadn’t had children before being widowed at such an early age.
On the other hand, Jo had no excuse.
Of all the men who passed through her diner doors, Blue was the only one who’d stuck around. Off and on, that is.
Maybe it was because she comped police officers’ meals. That practice was good for keeping trouble away from the diner, especially during spring break, when hordes of college students, intent on partying, descended on Crown Island.
Despite Jo waving the bill, Blue always insisted on leaving a tip that covered the cost. He’d taught his rookies to do that, too. Whether it was to avoid the appearance of impropriety or just good manners, she appreciated it. Her staff worked hard. She always deposited his cash into the tip jar to be divided at the end of the shift.
Most had children, so they welcomed the extra tips.
As for herself, Jo had always dreamed of having a family. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t panic until she turned thirty-five, but she was getting close.
Lately, she’d found herself thinking about alternatives. A friend had spent a fortune on in vitro procedures. After an arduous journey on that path, they now had a lovely little girl. Jo wasn’t sure she’d want to take such measures, if it came to that. Besides, she loved being an auntie to the girl.
That might be enough. Women didn’t need to marry anymore, she told herself.
Still, she watched couples together and thought how nice the companionship would be. Having a partner she could count on. Someone who cared about her. Someone she could love.
She sure thought she’d found him.
With a small sigh, she swept her short, dark curls from her forehead, idly wondering if she should try a dating app. For all the people she’d met, no one had captured her interest enough to think of spending a lifetime with them. She shuddered at the thought of marrying just to have a family. Some women who sat at her counter quietly admitted that after a few beers near closing time, but she could never.
No, she hadn’t met anyone who sparked a fire in her.
Except for Blue. Somehow, he’d wedged his way into her heart. Even with all his issues.
Across the black-and-white tiled floor, a teenager with short denim shorts and a strappy bare-midriff top stood at the jukebox, drumming her fingers. Finally, she dropped in some coins and tapped a button before joining her friends in a circular red vinyl booth.
Taylor Swift’s latest song filled the diner.
Jo hummed along as she tidied the counter area. The back of her Cuppa Jo’s red neon sign shone through the window. Making sure that her server Candy was on the floor, she checked in with her kitchen staff, then returned with a tray of glasses from the kitchen, fresh from the dishwasher. She placed it on the bar. Taking glasses in each hand, she bent to fill the shelves under the bar.
She sensed a presence above her.
A warm, deep voice sounded. “Is this bar stool taken?”
Jo looked up to see Blue easing onto a red swivel stool at the counter. He wore mirrored aviator sunglasses with his police officer’s uniform that fit him like it was molded to that physique. People thought he looked more like a polished silver-screen officer than a real actor. With his shiny dark hair and bright blue eyes that shimmered under dark brows, he was like a character straight out of Central Casting.
Seeing him, unannounced after two weeks of silence, nearly knocked the wind out of her. Still, they hadn’t officially broken up. They were taking a little break, as he’d put it before he left for his hometown.
Admittedly, they both had issues. She stood, acting cool and nonchalant. As if he hadn’t disappeared and left her to cancel the hotels they’d booked for their holiday off the island.
“So, what will it be, Blue? Same as old times?”
He removed his sunglasses and grinned sheepishly. “If you can remember that far back.”
Not wanting him to see how his silence had hurt her, she shrugged. “Hasn’t been that long, has it? I hardly had time to miss you.”
“It’s not often I can get time off.” He reached across the counter to take her hand. “I’m sorry about the trip we planned. My mother—”
“We both have a lot of pressures,” she said, cutting in while ignoring his hand. She’d been looking forward to their romantic getaway to Yosemite Park.
She shrugged off the thought that had been haunting her since he’d left. “Coffee?”
“Sure. Hey, do you have some of that Kona coffee?”
“The Imperial Kona Reserve?” That was her new top of the line specialty coffee she planned to invest in. She had only a few sample bags.
His eyes brightened. “That’s the one.”
“Sorry. Fresh out.”
She pulled out a mug from behind the counter and filled it with her standard coffee left over from lunch that she’d meant to throw out, including the bitter sludge at the bottom. No way was she going to make a fresh pot for him.
“Here you go.”
She glanced around, hoping another customer needed her, but they were all laughing and having a good time. Candy and the rest of Jo’s staff were doing their jobs.
Blue took a sip and blinked, clearly aware of what she’d done. Nevertheless, he said, “You make the best coffee around.”
She put a hand on her hip. “Now you’re patronizing me.”
He was avoiding what they needed to talk about, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of asking. She folded her arms and remained silent, watching his discomfort, and deriving a certain amount of satisfaction from it.
She went back to putting up the clean glassware.
Between the demands of running Cuppa Jo’s and Blue being on the police force here on Crown Island, their relationship had worked for a long time. Mostly because he could drop in whenever he had time to eat or come over after a shift. Her kitchen had always been open to him, here at the diner and her home.
She’d probably made it too easy for him. That’s what her mother once said. Not that Sylvie Dufour’s advice was worth much, or that she heard it often, since her mother was now living in Cabo San Lucas with her current future ex-boyfriend.
The last time Jo spoke to her, maybe a year ago, she suspected her mother was drinking or on drugs from the way she slurred her words. Her mother had an assortment of issues, none of which Jo could help her with.
Her mother had a lot to say about men, little of it good or useful. Her parents had been divorced since she was a kid, and her brother Hugo was an infant. When her mother wanted to move to Mexico with a boyfriend, Jo brought her brother to Crown Island, enrolled him in school, and bought a rundown house on Sunshine Avenue for them to live in.
Hugo had helped her make repairs and paint. And now he was studying at the university, something she’d never had the chance to do, except for a few community college courses.
That’s why she wouldn’t compromise. The last thing she wanted was a situation like her mother had been through. Sylvie wasn’t bad, but the men she chose were. Jo and her brother had to call one of them Dad, even though they hadn’t seen him in years. Poor Hugo wouldn’t know him if he saw the guy on the street.
Their grandmother, Sylvie’s mother, had been the calming influence in their young lives.
Jo stood to check on her customers.
“Please listen to me.” Blue caught her hand across the counter. Despite seeing her cringe, he went on, an edge of urgency in his voice. “My mother needed me, and I’m the only son she has left. I hope you understand why I went. I love you, Jo.”
She drew her hand back. She wasn’t ready to cave at his touch. “So how is she feeling?”
Blue blinked. “She’s fine. Nothing but nerves. You know how she is.”
Jo understood and felt sorry for the woman. She couldn’t imagine losing a son, and when Blue left, his mother Rhonda must have felt like she was losing another one. But Blue insisted his life was here, and his mother needed therapy. He’d told her many times he’d never return to Chicago.
His sisters weren’t helping the situation, even though they lived in the same neighborhood. Jo wasn’t heartless. She knew they were all grieving and had been for years.
Yet if he wasn’t going to make a decision about their future, she would.
Blue leaned in. “You seem upset.”
“You think? You spent our entire vacation time there. I told you I could join you for a few days. Candy would have covered for me.” If his mother wasn’t that ill, why did he stay so long?
When he didn’t answer, she said, “I’d rather not talk about this here.”
Blue stroked his smooth jaw. “It’s complicated, you know?”
“No, I don’t. Explain it to me.”
Blue only shook his head.
She returned to reorganizing the shelf behind the counter. How did he think she was going to react?
He shifted on the stool. “Mom is doing a lot better than I thought, but she’s not getting any younger.”
She looked up. “Your words or your sisters?”
He ran a hand over his hair. “Jo—”
“Are your sisters looking after her?”
“They are. Fortunately, Mom’s symptoms turned out to be a panic attack, not the heart condition she thought she had. Still, it could happen.”
“Anything could happen, Blue.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Jo wished she could take them back. She busied herself with the glasses again.
The worst had happened in his family. Blue and his brother had served together on the Chicago police force. Charles was a detective, and suffered a fatality during an early morning, multiagency raid. After he was laid to rest, Blue had packed a bag and driven west the next week, heartbroken. He’d had to start all over with the police force on Crown Island.
Seven years ago. That’s how long they had been dating.
Jo slowed down organizing her glasses, her gaze landing on his shiny badge. She was at a loss for words now. She’d cried them all out over the last two weeks.
Blue’s direct gaze held hers. “We really need to talk, Jo.”
Her chest tightened, and she clenched her jaw. Her father had said those words the night he left their family.
“I can come over later tonight after my shift.”
Jo shook her head. “I have plans, Blue. Enjoy your coffee. I have work to do now.”
She hurried into the kitchen before he could stop her. If he thought he was having lunch here, it would be Candy serving him, not her.
He didn’t have to tell her because she already suspected what had happened in Chicago. His mother and his sisters had been trying to get him to return.
Not them as a couple. Just him.
Later that evening as jazz played in Jo’s kitchen, she pulled the enchilada pan from the oven. Her homemade verde sauce bubbled at the edges, rich with the aroma of tomatillos, onions, and peppers.
Chicken enchiladas were one of her specialties, and she served them with homemade guacamole. At the diner, she included rice and beans as a dinner special, but that was more than she and Junie needed.
“That smells delicious,” Junie said as she sat on a stool at the counter. “Need some help?”
“You can get napkins and silverware for us.” Jo nodded toward the drawers, then remembered Junie knew where everything was.
She glanced around the kitchen of her cozy cottage on Sunshine Avenue. Against the vintage tile backsplash sat a professional-grade stand mixer, a mandoline, and a set of carbon-steel knives that most home cooks would envy. Top quality, all of it, and seldom used, because she spent most of her time at the diner now that her brother had left for university.
One change she’d made in the last year was to promote Candy to assistant manager, freeing up her weekday evenings. She had done that to spend more time with Blue and work on her new project. Now she’d rather fill extra time with friends like Junie and her sister Maileah.
She wasn’t waiting around for Blue anymore.
Turning to open a cupboard, the Crown Island Police fundraising calendar caught her eye. Blue was on the front of it, Mr. January, staring at her with his bright blue eyes and alluring smile.
“I’ve had it with you,” she said to his image. She snatched it from the wall and stuffed it into a drawer.
Junie raised her brow. “Whatever makes you feel better.”
“It sure does.”
Jo opened the cupboard and took down her grandmother’s dishes. The hand-painted vintage set with the scalloped edges, dusty pink roses, and olive-green branches always made her think of Sunday dinners they’d once shared. Jo placed two dinner plates and bowls on the counter.
“Those are gorgeous dishes,” Junie said.
“These were my grandmother’s. She gave me the entire set when she moved to her independent living home in San Diego. The pattern is called Franciscan Desert Rose, and there’s a story behind them.”
“How is she doing?”
Jo smiled. “Mamie Rose likes all the activities, and she’s with friends. She doesn’t seem to miss her old house.”
“That’s good to hear.” Junie collected the utensils. “So, what’s the story behind those dishes?”
“My grandmother cherished these because she’d befriended the designer, Annette Honeywell, who created this pattern back in the 1940s in Los Angeles. My grandmother was much younger and looked up to her.”
Jo traced the scalloped edge of her plate with her finger. “She liked the idea that a woman created these. I do, too. Sadly, this pattern is discontinued.”
Junie admired a plate. “That’s fascinating. Wasn’t there a significant pottery movement in California around then?”
“That’s right. Many works were originally inspired by Mexican pottery, like these dishes.” Nodding toward her backsplash, Jo added, “And those are Batchelder tiles I found at a salvage shop.”
“This pattern feels like a California garden,” Junie said, examining a plate.
“The sweetest part of the story is that my grandfather bought this set for her. ‘Roses for my Rose,’ he said. And she loved to tell people that Jacqueline Kennedy used the same pattern in the White House for casual dinners.” Jo smiled. “Maybe she did. Those who know said her mother-in-law Rose Kennedy used these dishes in her Palm Beach home in the 1960s.”
“Another Rose,” Junie said.
Jo smiled. “It was a popular name then. Still is.”
She had once imagined serving her family on those plates and telling her children the story. But she couldn’t depend on Blue anymore, she thought, chewing her lip.
“Let’s eat in your garden tonight,” Junie said, adding a pair of pink napkins to the utensils she held.
“Sure, it’s a nice evening.” Jo plated the enchiladas, ladled more green tomatillo sauce over them and finished with scoops of guacamole and salad. “There,” she said with a flourish. “Mamie Rose would approve.”
Jo carried the plates out to the small patio off the kitchen, where a vintage wrought iron table and chairs sat surrounded by jasmine and gardenias. The sweet floral aromas filled the evening air.
Junie followed with the sangria she’d brought. She filled their glasses, making sure sliced oranges and limes were in each glass.
“To the chef,” Junie said, raising her glass.
“To the best of friends.”
Jo took a long sip. The wine was cold and bright with citrus. This was what she’d needed. Not another late dinner waiting for Blue to finish his shift. A lovely evening, an ocean view, good food on beautiful plates, and her best friend across the table. Junie usually had dinner with Knox and Penny, so this was a treat to have her.
Besides, she and Junie had made these plans days ago. As they ate, Jo told Junie about Blue’s return.
“Are you seeing him soon?” Junie asked.
“Who knows? He said we needed to talk but he hasn’t called. I’m not waiting. He knows where he can reach me.”
Junie’s expression softened. “You two have invested time in your relationship, and you’ve been good together. Do you think you’re being a little hard on him?”
“I’ve considered all that. We’ve had good times, but our lives aren’t aligning. This time is different. Something changed while he was in Chicago.”
“Like what?”
Jo pursed her lips. “I think his mother wants him back there.”
“Would he go?”
“Blue came here to escape all that happened and start fresh. He can’t do a lateral transfer back there, so I don’t know.”
Junie paused. “Do you love him?”
Jo ran a hand through her short curls. “Love isn’t always enough, and it feels one-sided now. He has plenty of words but little action or talk of a life together. Anyway, I have a business to run, and I have plans, like selling my Cuppa Jo’s brand in grocery stores.”
Jo let out a small sigh. Even as she said those words, her heart ached. Still, she would stick to her decision.
Junie nodded. “My grandmother says, ‘A woman with a plan is a force.’”
“I think so, too. You should’ve seen the diner when I bought it ten years ago. I was young and inexperienced, but I learned what people liked. Especially the summer people.”
The island’s high season was underway, and that meant those who had summer homes or rented ones for the season were arriving. Junie knew many of them now.
“Guess who I saw in town,” Junie said, sipping her wine. “My cousin Rocky. Well, my new cousin. The whole Bay family connection is still kind of wild to me. My mother discovered an entire new family after she ran her DNA. I guess that’s true for a lot of adoptees.”
Jo leaned forward. “Rocky Bay? I remember him from the diner, but it’s been a while. Isn’t he friends with Sailor?”
“He’s staying with him.”
Junie’s sister Maileah was engaged to Sailor, a world-class professional surfer.
“I think Maileah is cooking for the three of them tonight. Rocky seems like a great guy.”
Jo had always liked him, even though he was a little scruffy and skinny. “Didn’t Rocky surf?”
“That’s how he and Sailor met,” Junie replied, nodding. “He’s not in Sailor’s league, obviously, but few are in the world. He’s a good guy, smart and industrious, the kind who walks in and sorts out whatever mess there is. My cousin Ivy once told me he did a lot of work on the Seabreeze Inn. And he just graduated with a master’s degree in business from USC.”
Jo recalled that Rocky was intelligent, so he must have started applying himself. The University of Southern California was one of the most prestigious private universities in Southern California.
“I wondered where he’d disappeared to. Last I’d heard he was working with his father. Do you know what he plans to do now?”
Jo shrugged. “Maileah told me he’s considering his options. In the meantime, he’s taking the summer off before he starts working. Maybe he’ll come by the diner. He’s awfully good-looking.”
Her friend’s voice sounded hopeful. “I know what you’re getting at, but I’m not looking for anyone now.” Her heart was a mess of emotions.
From the patio, Jo could see the glow of Knox’s kitchen light across the street. Penny was probably already asleep. Knox was likely waiting for Junie. They seemed to know what they wanted.
Jo looked at her grandmother’s plate and wondered what she would say about a woman who was thirty-something and still eating dinner with friends, instead of the man who said he loved her.
She knew exactly what Rose Dufour would say. Good for you, sweetheart. Don’t ever wait on a man like your mother does.
Just then, headlights swept across the front of the cottage and through the garden area. A car door closed.
Jo set down her glass. “That sounds like Blue’s car.”
“I should let you two talk.” Junie stood and squeezed Jo’s shoulder. “Want me to clean up?”
“No, but thanks.” Junie was like a sister to her now, and they often helped each other.
After Junie left by the side gate and crossed the street, the patio was quiet again. Jo sat for a moment in the jasmine-scented dark, listening to Blue’s footsteps on the front walk. She didn’t get up right away.
Whatever he had to say could wait while she armored her heart.
