Seeking Carolina (8 page)

“The skinny kid sure did fill out nicely, didn’t he?”

Johanna spun, hand to her chest. “Emma, I thought you were in the kitchen.”

“Look at you blush.”

“I’m not blushing.”

“He does have a nice butt. Not as nice as Mike’s though.”

“Mike’s ass is mighty fine.” Johanna tweaked her sister’s side. “I always thought so.”

“Johanna!”

“Oh, now who’s blushing?”

Emma poked her back, and then they were laughing instead of squealing, heading down the hallway to the warm and bright kitchen where all the children stood at the counter, just as Johanna imagined.

She stopped short. Her vision blurred. She blinked. A sensation like joy, like fear, wriggled through her. Already, Charlotte was inspecting little hands to make sure they were clean. Johanna remembered Charlie telling her his eldest was studying for a degree in early child development. She was tall and thin, just as her father had been at her age, but elfin in a way fair, redheaded girls made beautiful. Charlie had not been elfin. Even skinny, his features were bold. He’d grown into those features to make the handsome man standing in her kitchen, surrounded by children that were his and not hers, but for whom she already felt affection.

“Everyone ready to bake?”

“Yeah!” A chorus of small voices, and a few older ones. Caleb stood closer to his father, trying not to seem too eager.

“Charlotte, if you wouldn’t mind starting the little ones measuring out the flour and sugar, I have a special task for Caleb.”

“Sure, Johanna.”

Johanna took Caleb’s hand and led him to the oven. Already gathered on the counter were milk, butter, cocoa and sugar.

“What do you want me to do?” Caleb asked. Johanna put a big stockpot on the burner.

“Learn how to make real hot chocolate,” Johanna answered, “so you never have to drink that crap out of an envelope again.”

* * * *

By the time the second batch of chocolate chip cookies came out of the oven, Gunner had arrived, and Johanna had lost most of her help. Full bellies made for sleepy children. Emma took them into the family room to watch Christmas specials. Julietta came down, rolled a few cookies, ladled herself a mug of hot chocolate and went back up to her office to work. She had a deadline she was going to miss if she didn’t get the research in to the agency by five o’clock. Julietta had never missed a deadline.

Nina and Gunner sat with Emma and Charlie at the dining room table, nibbling cookies and chatting. Soon, Mike would arrive just long enough to say hello and whisk his family to his parents’ house for the traditional English Christmas dinner, complete with roast goose and a viewing of whatever incarnation of
A Christmas Carol
Emma deemed appropriate for the children.

Only Charlotte remained in the kitchen with her, which suited Johanna just fine. The dreamy-vision of baking with children hadn’t quite lived up to expectations. Working with Charlotte was more like working with a colleague.

How young Charlie and Gina had been when their first child was born. How frightening it must have been.

The cookies were all done and waiting to be decorated. They had moved on to the pies for Christmas Day. Two apple already cooled on the counter. Two cherry baked in the oven. Two pecan awaited their turn.

“Did I see you put honey into the crust?” Johanna stood at Charlotte’s elbow, watching her press the graham-cracker crust into another pie tin for the pumpkin that would come next.

“I did. It gives the crust a nice chew. Is that okay?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never done it before, myself.”

“It’s how my mom taught me.” Charlotte averted her eyes. “Whatever her faults, she is a really good cook.”

“Must run in the family,” Johanna said. “Even Gram had to admit your grandmother’s meatballs were better than hers. I was sorry to hear your grandparents sold the pizzeria.”

Charlotte shrugged. “They got old, and Mom had no interest. Neither did my uncles.”

“Frankie and Aldo.”

“You know them?”

“You forget I grew up in this town. You know how it is. Everyone knows everyone.”

“True.” Charlotte shrugged again. “They’re all in Florida now. My uncles. My grandparents. My mom and her boyfriend. I fucking hate Florida.”

Johanna’s heart stitched. The need to hide the hurt behind anger was a familiar one. “Florida has some pretty places left.”

“Not where they live. I wish they lived in Key West, or someplace actually cool. Then maybe I’d visit. It’s not like my grandmother ever liked me much.”

“Why would you say that?”

Yet another shrug. “I’m the thing that ruined her daughter’s life,” she said. “The child conceived out of wedlock. As if it matters anymore.”

“It did back then, to some. But she’s your grandmother. I remember how she showed you off to everyone when you were a baby.”

“I stopped being a cute little baby and grew a mouth.” Charlotte snickered. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

Of course, it matters, Johanna wanted to say, but she handed Charlotte the measuring cup she was reaching for and told her, “You have a real flair for this.”

“I love to bake,” Charlotte said. “It’s funny, I never did before, and I worked in the coffeehouse all through high school. Then I went away to college and suddenly, I’m constantly baking cookies and cupcakes. My dorm is the most popular on campus, mostly because it is now known as a free bakery.”

“I bought CC’s on a whim.” Johanna’s hesitation gave way to Charlotte’s honesty. “It was the name, really, that sold me.”

Charlotte looked up from pressing graham cracker crumbs. “Cape Confectionery?”

“CC’s,” Johanna said. “Carolina Coco. My mother’s initials.”

“Oh, I get it. How cool is that?”

Johanna’s hammering heart eased. Perhaps it was obvious, and maybe her sisters had guessed long ago, but Charlotte was the first person she’d ever told her secret to, and she felt better for it. “I don’t know how or why but as it turned out, I’m actually good at baking. Better than good, like you are.”

“We make a good team.”

Johanna gave her a quick squeeze. “We do. You know, if you’re looking for a summer job, I can always use—”

“Yes!” Charlotte laughed when Johanna did. “Sorry. I got a little enthusiastic there. Do you mean it? Can I come work for you?”

A passing thought for Gina and the custody agreement Charlie told her about flitted in and back out of Johanna’s mind. Charlotte was twenty, and no longer required to visit the mother she was obviously still angry with. “Consider yourself hired.”

Charlotte hugged Johanna tight and quickly. “I can’t believe it. I have to text Katie. Johanna, you’re the best. I love you Coco women. You’re all so cool.” Charlotte blew past her father just coming through the doorway.

Charlie leapt out of the way, shaking his head. “What’s got my daughter squealing like a teenager?”

“I just hired her for the summer.”

Charlie’s eyebrows shot up. “You did, huh?”

“It just sort of happened. You okay with it?”

He was silent for a moment. “She’s a grown woman. She can do what she wants with her summer.”

“Gina’s not going to be happy.”

Leaning over the counter, his elbows sending up puffs of flour, he said, “Charlotte wasn’t going anyway. Even if she would have, it wouldn’t be for the whole summer. Same with Will. He’s already started hedging.”

“But Gina can make him, no?”

“She can, but she won’t. Gina made her choice. She knew what it meant when she made it. That’s between her and her children.”

“You’re good, not to speak badly of her.”

“Why would I? I’m sad for the kids, but I’m not sorry we divorced. Gina and I tried, but we just didn’t work. Not from day one.”

Johanna leaned back on the stove handle, her hands gripping it to keep from reaching for her locket. So many summers ago, she thought Charlie McCallan was the happily-ever-after she never wanted. Her own parents and their furious love ending so tragically convinced her she didn’t want or need anything of the kind. Growing up, Johanna had few crushes that lasted more than a kiss, a fact she took pride in. Until the summer of her junior year. Until the skinny, ghost-pale kid whose parents took care of the local cemetery became the young man who made Johanna Coco’s heart dance.

“I guess I should have seen something like this coming,” Charlie was saying.

“Hmm…what?”

“Charlotte. I hoped by letting the kids out of Christmas in Florida would help Charlotte get over her anger. I guess it won’t.”

Johanna cleared her mind with a shake of her head. “She will, eventually. Gina is her mother. The only one she’s got.”

“That’s what I keep telling her.” Charlie straightened, dusted off his elbows. “I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into. My daughter is…energetic.”

“I prefer enthusiastic.” Johanna looked past him to where the young woman still texted with her friend. “She really does have a gift for baking. It takes creativity, as well as a scientific mind. Baking is all about chemistry.”

“Then how the hell did you become a baker.” Charlie laughed. “You nearly blew up Mr. Ganatick’s lab, remember?”

“Oh, wow. I do remember. The smell.”

“Like rotten eggs and hair spray.”

“Well,”—Johanna tossed her hair dramatically—“a woman can’t be pretty as a pixie and brilliant.”

“Sure she can.” He moved to her side of the counter.

Backed up against the stove, Johanna had no place to go even if she wanted to. She looked up at him suddenly so close.

Charlie brushed flour or sugar from her face. “I’ve always known you were both.”

“I—” She cleared her throat. “I never did well in school.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re not brilliant.”

“Not like Julietta.”

“No, not like Julietta,” he said. “Yours is a different kind of brilliance. The being able to light up a room just by walking into it kind. The charming a passing grade from a teacher who should have failed you kind. The buying a bakery on a whim and making it not just profitable, but a local treasure kind.”

“How did you…”

“I know how the Internet works, Jo.” He moved a little closer. “I looked it up. ‘CC’s in Cape May, New Jersey.’” Closer. “‘Proprietress, Johanna Elsbet Coco.’” Charlie tipped her face up with one, thick finger. Johanna closed her eyes, closed off the world. Charlie whispered against her lips, “Best known for her chocolate mud cookies and—”

The door slammed, startling them apart. Johanna’s heart hammered. Charlie was already lunging for the door. “Will,” he shouted. “William James.”

“Dad, what is it? What’s wrong?” Charlotte stood in the doorway between dining room and kitchen, cell phone in hand and looking from her father to Johanna. “Oh,” she said. “Maybe I should go after him.”

“Let him go.” Charlie pushed fingers through his hair. “We should probably head home anyway.”

Johanna’s racing heart stuttered, but she did not argue. He called his kids who groaned and complained but did as they were told. As he was helping them on with their snow clothes, Mike arrived to say, ‘Merry Christmas,’ swipe some cookies and hustle his wife and sons out the door. From joyful bliss to an almost-kiss to alone in fifteen minutes flat. Johanna leaned against the door.

“What happened?” Nina asked, coming down the hall.

“Charlie’s son saw him about to kiss me and took off.”

“Oh.” Nina grimaced, and then she smiled. “Oh!”

“About to.” Johanna sighed. “He didn’t quite get there.”

“It’s only a matter of time.”

“Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t.”

Nina put her arm around her shoulders, jostled her. “I never thought you, of all people, would give up on something you want so badly.”

“You might be laying it on a little thick, don’t you think?”

“Are you honestly going to try to convince me you don’t want Charlie McCallan?”

Johanna slumped, deflated and discovered. “It’s only been a few days, Nina.”

“Jo.” Nina threw up her arms. “It has been twenty years. Do you really think we all don’t know he broke your heart? That you stay away from Bitterly because of him?”

“Not only because of him.” Johanna smiled despite herself. “I didn’t think I was so obvious.”

“Darling, there is nothing subtle about you and never has been.”

Johanna leaned into her sister, whose arms came around her. Nina kissed the top of her head. “I know the other reasons you haven’t come home. We all know about that too.”

“They’re like ghosts I can’t escape here,” Johanna said. “I think I brought them with me from New Hampshire.”

“They didn’t die in the fire, Jo. You know they didn’t.”

“They died for me. And for you. It’s the last time we saw them.”

“That’s probably a good thing. At least we had weird but loving parents. They got so much worse after we got taken away.”

“Poor Emma and Julietta. What do you think life was like for them?”

“We’ll probably never know. They were both so small when Gram brought them home.”

“When Gram brought who home?”

The sisters spun to see Julietta coming down the stairs, mug and cookie plate in hand.

“Those kittens we had,” Nina said. “Remember them?”

“Sugar and Spice.” Julietta made a face. “Why would you be talking about them?”

“I’m thinking of getting a pair of cats for the bakery,” Johanna lied. “Did you make your deadline?”

“Of course. It’s so quiet down here.” Julietta looked beyond her sisters. “Where did everyone go?”

“Mike came for Emma and the boys,” Nina answered. “And Charlie and his kids had to go.”

Julietta grimaced. She looked at her watch. “Can we still get pizza?”

* * * *

His son still hadn’t looked at him. Will spent his teenage years avoiding eye contact, but Charlie remembered when he was a little boy shy of strangers, yet with an intense curiosity that made asking questions a constant. Will never really liked cartoons, but would sit for hours watching a documentary about dinosaurs, or how telescopes were made. Sitting in the family room with his son now, knowing Charlotte was in the kitchen eavesdropping, Charlie missed the little boy he was and the simplicity of it all back then.