A Case for Forgiveness. Carol Ross
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Of course he undoubtedly knew that she’d been on her way over. It was so like him to take advantage of any edge, like the good cut-throat attorney he was.
“Here, let me take that for you.” He reached out and removed the Crock-Pot from her white-knuckled grasp.
She was too stunned to offer any protest.
“Jonah?”
“How are you, Shay?”
How was she? The question sounded all laid-back and high-school-casual as if they’d parted on friendly terms last week instead of suffering an excruciating breakup ten years ago, and years of tension and animosity since.
Francis, Caleb’s “maladoodle,” as he liked to call the poodle-malamute mix would no longer be ignored—her tail thudding hard against the door frame as she forced her way to Shay’s side. Shay reached out a hand, seeking solace in the familiar feel of her velvet-soft fur.
“What are you doing here?” she managed to ask.
Jonah’s mouth curved up at the corners. “I live here, remember? Or I used to anyway. And I will be again, for a while. Come in, I hope you’re planning to stay for dinner because Gramps is expecting you.”
Will be again? What did that mean? Her brain refused to process what it so obviously meant.
“I told Gramps that I would take him out for dinner tonight, but he insisted on letting you bring your moose stew. He said he’s been looking forward to this meal all week.”
“Yeah, well, he really likes it...” Shay mumbled sheepishly and moved around Jonah. In the kitchen, a beaming Caleb waited with his arms outstretched. The look of delight on his face managed to nudge her out of her Jonah-shock.
“Howdy, sweet girl!”
“Hey, Caleb,” she said as he wrapped his strong arms around her. Welcome comfort enveloped her; the sensation so like what she’d always enjoyed with her own grandpa, but different too, because she didn’t have to share Caleb with her five siblings. She didn’t even have to share him with his own neglectful grandson—not usually.
“How are you feeling?” Always her first question when she saw Caleb.
He pulled back, gripping Shay lightly by the shoulders as he grinned down at her. “Right as rain, now! Been saving room all day for your stew and I’m so hungry I briefly considered sharing Francis’s dinner. I’ve got the table all set, so let’s dig in, huh?”
“I, um, yes definitely,” Shay said, trying to force out some enthusiasm. “There’s more food in the car, so let me just—”
“I’ll get it,” Jonah said, and took off before either of them could say anything.
“Caleb, you didn’t mention Jonah was coming for a visit.”
“Well, I wasn’t entirely sure about the whole thing. You know Jonah—he wasn’t sure which day he was going to be able to fly out and whatnot, so I didn’t mention it. Didn’t want to jinx it—you know?” He rapped his knuckles lightly on the cupboard door behind him and added a wink.
She did know.
Every time one of Jonah’s trips hadn’t materialized, she watched Caleb deal with those dashed hopes. Why couldn’t Jonah understand what his actions did to his grandfather—the man who had loved and raised him from the age of nine?
Caleb had given Jonah so much, and in return Jonah had taken off for the big city to make money and buy expensive toys—and never looked back. Well, that wasn’t true—he’d looked back exactly eight, short, pathetic times.
Jonah returned with the rest of the food and they filed into the dining room. Caleb sat at one end of the antique oak table, while she and Jonah positioned themselves on either side of him. Caleb asked a quick blessing, and then dove into the corn bread, slicing and scooping out portions onto their plates as if this were the most normal thing in the world—the three of them eating dinner together like some kind of happy family.
Of course, it had been once...
Jonah too, appeared unbothered as he spooned thick stew into their bowls and passed them around.
Shay felt like screaming in frustration—she did not want to be here with Jonah. She knew there was absolutely no way of getting out of it now even as a parade of lame headache, stomachache, inn-emergency excuses danced silently across her tongue.
Caleb turned his animated blue eyes on her. “So, earlier I was filling Jonah in on how much you’ve improved the inn and how great the new restaurant is and how well it’s been doing. He is as anxious as all get-out to rush up there and check it out.”
Jonah looked at Shay, an amused half-smile telling her that maybe it was Caleb who was excited for him to check it out rather than the other way around.
“Apparently we are coming for the seafood buffet. Gramps said it’s so popular that we have to make a reservation. Does that mean the entire town of Rankins is now having dinner at the Faraway Inn?” Jonah’s voice held a touch of derision, grinding on her nerves like a set of worn-out brakes.
Caleb jumped in before Shay could comment, “Javier, that chef she hired? He makes some salmon dishes that melt in your mouth like candy.”
Jonah bobbed his head and somehow managed to make the otherwise innocent gesture appear condescending. “I see. Hmm, that’s...neat.”
“The restaurant got a five-fork review from this fancy reporter from Anchorage. Shay offers a discount, too, for locals, and people around here think that’s pretty neat—I can tell you that,” Caleb added.
Shay wanted to kiss Caleb, at the same time she fantasized about giving Jonah a “neat” slap on the back of his head.
Instead, she shot Jonah a cool look of triumph. “I try to think first about the people around here. Like your grandfather. This community is important to me.”
Jonah rolled his eyes.
She smiled at Caleb. “I’m sure the food at the inn isn’t nearly as good as what Jonah gets in Chicago.” It was probably too much to hope that she could discourage him from coming to eat at the inn.
“I doubt that,” Jonah said. “I do miss the food here—home cooking and fresh seafood. I’m sure I’ll have to double my workout when I get back to Chicago.”
Shay couldn’t stop herself from asking the question. “How long are you here for exactly?”
“Anxious to get rid of me already?” he teased.
Caleb chuckled.
Yes, she wanted to shout. “Of course not,” she returned carefully, like she was speaking to a three-year-old. He really didn’t bring out the best in her sometimes. She tried again, “It’s just that Caleb didn’t mention that you were going to be here, so I guess I’m wondering what you’re doing back in town. Are you here for Agnes’s memorial?”
“Any luck finding homes for those cats of hers yet?” Caleb asked.
“Five of them, but I still have the three kittens. Agnes really wanted to keep the young ones together.”
Caleb gave his head a sad shake. “I understand—Agnes was passionate about those animals of hers.”
“She did so much for this community. I feel like it’s the least I can do,” Shay said.
Caleb directed his next words at Jonah. “Our sweet Francis was one of Agnes’s rescue dogs.”
“I remember you mentioning that, Gramps.”
Shay raised her brows at Jonah, waiting for an answer to her original question.
“I was sorry to hear about Agnes. Story Fair won’t be the same without her, huh?”
Shay