The Calendar of New Beginnings Read online

  “My mom died of breast cancer three years ago,” he said quietly.

  Great. Just when she was about to kick him to the curb, he had to go all vulnerable on her. “I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged, straightening and giving her space again. “Shit happens. I’m just glad to be part of something that helps. Plus, it’ll be fun.”

  Fun might be stretching it, but Jeff had driven home something important. Even though her mom and April had told her everyone doing the calendar had lost someone, Lucy hadn’t really registered what that meant. Sure, her mom and April might like to joke about cantaloupes, but there were plenty of deeper emotions behind this enterprise. Lucy knew all about joking up a storm to cover pain. Right then and there, she decided she was going to give everything she could to this calendar.

  “I’m glad you’re on board, Jeff,” she told him with a smile.

  Okay, so it sucked that her mother had obviously told everyone she’d agreed to do the calendar before bothering to tell Lucy there was a calendar.

  “Me too,” he said, checking her out again.

  She wanted to roll her eyes, but someone grabbed her hand just then, making her jump.

  “Hi, Miss Lucy,” Danny called out, grinning up at her in his Star Wars shirt and jeans. Could he be any more adorable?

  She let a smile spread across her face. “Hi there, Danny Hale. Wanna sit on the bar? My dad always let me when I was your age.”

  A glance over her shoulder brought Andy into view. He was taller than most of Hairy’s patrons and looked well dressed in a dark blue button-down shirt and tan slacks—or at least that’s how she read the colors. Her friend had never much gone for the casual look of jeans and a T-shirt. She always looked like a slob next to him, and today she was no different in her worn jeans and ribbed green top.

  “Can I, Dad?” Danny asked, and when he nodded, Lucy lifted the little boy up on the bar top.

  “Hey, Andy,” she said to her friend, a little self-conscious of how Jeff was watching them.

  “Hi. You planning on getting my kid to serve beers?” Andy asked, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

  She could feel everyone in the surrounding area watching them now, including her dad. “Not yet,” she answered. “I don’t corrupt minors.”

  “Funny,” Andy said, keeping his cool despite all the eager eyes on them. “How’s it going, Jeff?”

  “Pretty good, man,” Jeff responded, shaking his hand. “I’m going to play some pool. Wanna come, Lucy?”

  He was sweet. But…he was testing out her feelings by asking her to accompany him. “I have to order my friend a drink.” She pointed to Danny. “It was good talking to you, Jeff. I’ll see you around.”

  His eyes held hers for a tad longer than appropriate. “Sure. Come find me if you change your mind. See you later, Andy.”

  Her friend waggled his eyebrows at her as Jeff walked off. “Some things never change.”

  She socked him, and her dad, who was still watching them, laughed and turned away. “What do you mean?”

  “You always stir up male interest wherever you go,” he said, shaking his head.

  While it was true, she wasn’t in the mood to converse on the subject. “How would you know? I haven’t lived here in forever.”

  He gave her a bland look.

  “Can I help being friendly?” Since she wanted to consider that subject good and closed, she turned to Danny. “What would you like to drink, kiddo?”

  When the boy opened his mouth, Andy said, “No soda today, Danny. You had your quota for the week at Mrs. O’Brien’s party last night.”

  “But Dad!” Danny cried, swinging his little legs off the bar. “It’s a special drink if Ms. Lucy is paying.”

  Her lips twitched, and Andy shot her a look.

  “Not a word,” he told her.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she replied, chuckling under her breath.

  Andy wouldn’t want her to tell Danny that once upon a time his dad had been her soda partner in crime. Her mom had rationed her intake as a kid since her father would give her endless soda whenever she visited the bar. Somehow, her mother had believed in the evils of excessive sugar in children before it became popular.

  That hadn’t stopped Lucy. She’d found other ways to get her fix when she wasn’t at Hairy’s. Andy had let her steal cans from the Hale refrigerator on more than one occasion, and sometimes he’d even sneaked them into her house. She’d drunk soda in her bathroom and thrown the cans in her neighbor’s garbage on her way to school. As far as she knew, her mother was still none the wiser.

  “Milk or orange juice today, Danny?” Andy asked, making his son frown.

  “How about we try a new drink?” Lucy asked, making the kid perk right back up. “Milk and orange juice. Maybe it will taste like orange sherbet.”

  Danny nodded enthusiastically. “Cool.”

  Lucy asked her father to make two glasses of her concoction. Andy selected a Murphy’s. When their drinks came, Lucy eyed the milk/juice glasses with suspicion. This might not have been her best idea, but she liked trying new things.

  “Well, no one found a diamond without looking in the rough.”

  Danny looked at her in confusion. Andy rolled his eyes.

  “On three,” she told the little boy. “One. Two. Three.”

  The chalky mixture hit her tongue when she took a sip, and she gagged. “Oh, yuck. It’s like drinking paint.”

  “Blah!” Danny shouted dramatically, setting his glass on the bar top and grabbing his neck for effect. “That’s the most horrible drink ever!”

  Andy signaled to her father, his lips twitching. “Orange juice please for my industrious son. Straight.”

  “Coming right up,” her dad said, his grin as wide as a dinner plate. “Lucy?”

  The foulness of the drink saturated her mouth. “I might need a Jameson to wash that down. Neat.”

  “The only way to drink the water of life,” her dad said, all Irish-like. “Coming up.”

  “Can I have a Jameson too, Dad?” Danny asked hopefully.

  “Yes,” Andy said, tousling his brown hair. “When you’re twenty-one.”

  His face fell. “But that’s forever. Mr. O’Brien says it’s water.”

  “Water with alcohol,” Andy corrected. “But you can have fries with your burger.”

  “Cool!” Danny said. “Sometimes Dad makes me eat salad. It’s horrible—even if all my aunts eat it like candy. Oh, except Aunt Natalie. She likes fries as much as I do.”

  Should she act horrified in front of Danny in camaraderie? She was tempted, but Andy looked way too serious about the subject, so she kept silent as her dad brought their drinks.

  “Speaking of my son’s French-fry loving Aunt Natalie, she’s meeting us here with Blake and Matt and Jane and Moira,” Andy told her. “So you can spill this thing you’ve had me stewing over all day.”

  Thinking about Jeff and the other members of the hot dog patrol, her lips twitched. How was Andy going to react to the notion of an equal-opportunity calendar? Personally, she wasn’t sure how she felt about taking risqué photos of Jeff considering how he was trying to cozy up to her. Sure as shooting, she wouldn’t be taking those photos alone.

  “You might have to pry it out of me,” she said, sipping her Jameson instead of downing it like she might have if a child wasn’t around.

  Danny downed his orange juice like he’d been on a fast.

  Andy leaned over her, trying to be menacing.

  “You couldn’t intimidate a fly,” she told him, pushing him back.

  Danny barked out a laugh and Lucy joined in. Was there anything better than kid giggles? Lucy had learned that one of the major indications a country was in serious trouble was the absence of children laughing.

  “You forget,” Andy said, putting his hands on his hips like he’d taken a Toughen-Up pill. “I know you can’t stand to be tickled. I’ll have it out of you in five seconds.” He poked her under the ribs an
d laughed when she lurched away.

  Danny’s eyes widened before he started laughing with his dad. “Get her, Dad.”

  “Cut that out,” she demanded as Andy’s fingers fluttered against her side again, “or I’ll kill you.”

  Danny’s mouth dropped open, and Andy gave her a hard look.

  “What Miss Lucy meant to say—”

  “Was that your dad was mean to tickle me,” she interrupted, realizing she couldn’t talk like that in front of Danny. “But I shouldn’t have said that last part. I was only teasing.”

  The little boy’s nod was punctuated by his wide-eyed gaze. “There’s good teasing, and there’s bad teasing. Right, Dad?”

  “Right,” Andy said, sending him a proud, paternal smile.

  Apparently Lucy needed to work on her conversation around little people. The kids she spoke with usually were grown-ups in little bodies, wizened by everything they’d experienced in war. “I’m sorry.”

  Andy bumped her with his hip. “Forgiven.”

  “It’s okay, Miss Lucy,” Danny said, gazing at her with those big puppy eyes now. “You didn’t know you were being bad.”

  Indeed. It took some effort not to laugh at his sincerity.

  Andy cleared his throat. “How about we grab a table?”

  “Good idea.” She held her arms out to Danny. “I had Dad reserve one in the corner for us.”

  “Thinking ahead like always,” Andy said as Danny jumped into her arms without fear.

  Andy grabbed their drinks, and together, they meandered to the open table. She smiled at the dancing leprechauns, arching rainbows, and pots of gold on the wall.

  “What are you smiling at, Miss Lucy?” Danny asked, leaning his elbows on the table and staring at her.

  “This place,” she said, feeling warmth for her dad’s bar roll through her heart. “Some things never change.”

  “No, some things don’t,” Andy said with a soft smile as he settled onto the bench across from her like he had hundreds of times growing up.

  As she gazed at her best friend in her dad’s bar, Lucy was grateful their friendship had never changed either. Despite the sparks of attraction she’d occasionally felt for him, nothing was worth risking their connection.

  Chapter 7

  Danny was so engrossed with talking to Lucy, Andy had to remind him to eat his hamburger and fries at least ten times. Everyone else was equally enthralled. Even Moira, Matt, and Natalie, who’d known Lucy growing up. Jane and Blake were new to the Lucy show, and they shoveled in their Cobb salads without looking at them as his best friend answered Danny’s rapid-fire questions.

  Had she ever seen an animal eaten by a lion? He squealed when she told him she’d seen a whole pride of lions eat an antelope, going into grisly detail only a five-year-old boy would want to hear. In response to Danny’s question about whether she’d ridden a camel, she told him she’d lumbered through the pyramids in Egypt at sunset on one of the hairy, spitting beasts. And when his son asked her if she’d ever found buried treasure, her response was to tell him about the incredible tombs in the Valley of the Kings, where dead people were transformed into mummies and entombed with all their worldly possessions.

  “Do you mean like a Wii or football?” Danny asked, seeking clarification on this entombing stuff.

  “Take a breath—and then a bite of your hamburger, Danny,” Andy repeated again, hoping Lucy’s stories weren’t going to give his kid nightmares. “And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

  “Exactly like an Wii or football,” Lucy said, her eyes sparkling. “But not just small things like that. We’re talking about beds, chests of gold, and statues of their family members. The ancient Egyptians believed they needed all their things around them so they could make a home in the afterlife—the place they went to after they died.”

  “I like this idea of being buried with my football,” Blake said, putting his arm around Natalie. “Babe, let’s keep that in mind. And I’ll want a statue of you, of course.”

  His wife socked Blake in the arm and gave him a look. “Not funny.”

  Danny propped his chin up with his hand on the table. “I thought people went to heaven when they died. Dad, does Mom have her things with her? I can’t remember.”

  Andy’s chest constricted, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. Everyone at the table stared at him, and Lucy went from sparkly to stricken in the space of a second.

  “The ancient Egyptians didn’t know about heaven,” he said cautiously, trying to formulate a response that wouldn’t scar his kid. “Your mother has everything she needs. Trust me on this.”

  “Maybe we should visit her tomorrow and check to make sure,” Danny said, his brow furrowed now. “I don’t want Mom to be without her favorite things. If I were in heaven, I’d want to take my Wii and the football Blake gave me. And my bike. Oh, and my stuffed hippo.”

  His son thought about death way more than any child should. Andy knew it was only natural. He’d read basically all the psychology books ever written about children and grief, and they all agreed on that point. He’d heard the same things from the child psychologists he’d spoken to in preparation for ushering his son through their shared loss.

  Heaven wasn’t a tangible concept to a five-year-old, he’d realized early on, but even young kids understood angels. He’d told Danny that his mother was an angel in this beautiful place called heaven, which was kind of like a magical garden where everyone you loved who’d died came to live with you. Danny had liked the thought of his mom being with her grandma, who’d taught her how to quilt. Andy hadn’t seen the harm in telling his son those stories. They were a comfort, a balm.

  But this… How was he supposed to keep Danny from wanting to leave an assortment of Kim’s favorite things at her gravesite? He rolled his shoulders to relieve the tightness and felt Moira put her hand on his back in support.

  “Danny,” Lucy said, clearing her throat, causing everyone to look at her. “Your dad is right. The ancient Egyptians had a different way of saying goodbye to the people they loved. Why, almost every place I go has a special way.”

  Andy had to bite his tongue to keep from telling Lucy to stop talking. Judging from the puzzled look on his son’s face, she was only making things worse.

  “But do you know what, Danny?” she continued, staring earnestly at his son. “The one your dad chose for your mom is absolutely the best. Because he’s the best and smartest dad ever. Right?”

  And then Lucy smiled—that smile that transformed everything around her.

  Danny grinned back. “Right. He is the best and smartest dad ever!”

  To punctuate the sentiment, his son turned in his seat and gave him a smile big enough to fill the world with sweetness. Andy felt his stomach settle back into his gut as Moira patted him on the back.

  All of the adults around him released slow breaths.

  Lucy met his gaze briefly before returning her laser-like focus to Danny. “Did I tell you about the time I took a horse and rode through the ancient ruins of Petra like Indiana Jones? Please tell me you’ve seen the Indiana Jones movies. They’re like your dad’s favorites.”

  “Of course I’ve seen them!” Danny said. “But Dad has me close my eyes for the scary parts.”

  “Like the scene where all the bugs crawl over them?” Lucy asked, gagging. “I hate that part!”

  “We’re not supposed to say ‘hate,’ Miss Lucy,” Danny said quietly. “Right, Dad?”

  “Right,” he answered, leaning over and kissing Danny on the top of his head because he needed to. Frankly, all he wanted to do was down Lucy’s Jameson, take his kid home, and tuck him into bed.

  “Oopsy daisy,” Lucy said with a shrug, doing her best to lessen the tension at the table. “Guess I’m still learning what’s okay to say. You keep reminding me. Okay, Danny?”

  “Okay,” Danny said, bouncing in his seat. “Have you ever seen—”

  “How about you and me find the foosball table?” Matt interru
pted, standing up. “I’m in the mood for a little competition.”

  Andy knew his brother was trying to give him a moment to recover his balance, and he appreciated it. Danny’s questions were becoming more inquisitive as his mind developed. Sometimes Andy wondered how many times he’d have to deflect a particularly tough question about death and how it related to Kim.

  The hardest part was that he knew it wasn’t going to end any time soon—as a little person grew, so did his questions. Right now, Andy was looking at somewhere around ten more years of this line of questioning. It stretched before him like an open-plank bridge over a gorge.

  The rest of their party stood too. Lucy sought his eyes, and in them, Andy could see her regret for her earlier comments. He smiled at her to assure her it wasn’t her fault.

  Blake picked Danny up and threw him in the air, causing him to squeal. “I’m going to beat your pants off tonight, munchkin.”

  Danny giggled. “No, I’m going to beat your pants off, and then you’ll have to walk to your car in your underwear.”

  “That would be a sight,” Natalie said, laughing out loud.

  “Might make a few women faint,” Jane added, joining in.

  “Undoubtedly,” Moira agreed, giving him a playful wink.

  “I’ll catch them as they fall, man,” Matt told their brother-in-law, his shoulders shaking.

  Blake shook his head. “You all wish you could have this body.”

  Matt clapped him on the back, and the group of them left the table and headed for Hairy’s game room, leaving Andy and Lucy alone with Moira. He gave his sister a look, which she returned.

  She fussed with her hands. “Lucy, I’m sure you heard, but I up and left my old job after a few too many run-ins with my boss. I’m planning to take a break in Dare Valley before looking for a new one, and I was hoping…we might get together sometime. What with you being back and all. Plus, I’d love to talk to you more about photography. You’re one of the best out there, and it’s a special hobby of mine.”

  His sister was as close to babbling as he’d ever seen her. Good Lord, was she having another fan moment?