special.”
Pap’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know there’s a woman?”
“Look at you. No flannel. No worn jeans. You’re all spit and polish. You look dapper, Pap. Of course there’s a woman.”
“Did anyone ever mention you’re a sassy girl?” He said it with a grin, so she knew he was teasing.
“You might have, once or twice.” She kissed his weathered cheek, then stood back and looked at him. She realized that this was the happiest she’d seen him since Val had passed. “I’m so glad. You deserve to be happy.”
“Everyone does, sweetie. Not everyone manages it, though. I’m lucky. I’ll introduce you to her at the Bow-Wow Ball. I still say that’s a lame name for the fund-raiser.”
“Don’t look at me. Clarence Harding started it when he heard the proceeds for the Christmas Ball were going to the Everything But a Dog Foundation. He barks every time he comes into the floral shop, no matter how many times I’ve told him it’s Bo w . . . long O . Bow as in Cupid’s bow and arrow.”
Pap laughed. “Kennedy, you are an original.”
“I’m doing my best to promote the town. Did I tell you that Aggie Samuels requested a variance so she can open a business in the residential part of town? The Cupid Falls Bed and Breakfast. How wonderful would that be? And I think I’ve found the money to expand the trail to the falls into a real bike path. Next summer we can have tours. Gus mentioned buying some bikes and maybe eventually some Segways and renting them out from The Cupboard’s old barn . . . ”
Mal stayed in the kitchen cooking as he listened to Pap and Kennedy catch up. Her enthusiasm for the town was only rivaled by her plans.
He’d found a notebook where Kennedy had obviously jotted down ideas for the Center. There was a bunch of pages with a VD Ideas header. It had given him a start until he realized she meant Valentine’s Day.
“Should we help Malcolm?” he heard her ask.
“No, that boy is just like his mom. He doesn’t like company when he cooks,” Pap said.
That wasn’t quite true. Mal did like company—he used to enjoy cooking with his mother, and he was pretty sure that he’d enjoy cooking with Kennedy. But he’d rather she sit down and put her feet up. She’d been up early this morning baking pies, and he couldn’t help but notice the plethora of fruit baskets, gift baskets, and flowers that lined the counter of her shop yesterday. She had to be exhausted.
The doorbell rang again.
Malcolm heard Pap go to answer the door. Kennedy came into the kitchen. “I brought the pies.”
“Thank you.” He nodded at an empty corner of the counter. She set them down.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked as he mashed the potatoes with a hand masher. “Yesterday must have been crazy for you.”
“I’m fine,” she said in a tone that didn’t brook any further comments.
He switched topics. “I’m going to tell Pap about the baby at dinner. He knows, but I don’t think he’ll acknowledge it until we make it official.”
She nodded. “Fine. But you don’t have to.”
“Kennedy, I—”
Pap came into the kitchen, interrupting what was sure to be an argument. “Look what the cat dragged i n . . . or rather who.”
Mal liked to think that being an attorney had taught him to be prepared for the unexpected and that he was prepared for most contingencies. Well, unexpected was one thing and his father walking into the kitchen was entirely another. He wasn’t sure he could prepare for a contingency like that.
CHAPTER SIX
Mal tried to see his father through Kennedy’s eyes. Malcolm Carter III was a tall man. His dark hair had faded to a steely grey that perfectly matched his eyes. Today he wore a pair of black slacks and grey shirt and no tie. That was Senior’s version of dressed down.
He glanced at Kennedy, who was frowning at his father.
“Dad, what brings you to Cupid Falls? I thought you said you were spending the long weekend prepping for the
Pap’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know there’s a woman?”
“Look at you. No flannel. No worn jeans. You’re all spit and polish. You look dapper, Pap. Of course there’s a woman.”
“Did anyone ever mention you’re a sassy girl?” He said it with a grin, so she knew he was teasing.
“You might have, once or twice.” She kissed his weathered cheek, then stood back and looked at him. She realized that this was the happiest she’d seen him since Val had passed. “I’m so glad. You deserve to be happy.”
“Everyone does, sweetie. Not everyone manages it, though. I’m lucky. I’ll introduce you to her at the Bow-Wow Ball. I still say that’s a lame name for the fund-raiser.”
“Don’t look at me. Clarence Harding started it when he heard the proceeds for the Christmas Ball were going to the Everything But a Dog Foundation. He barks every time he comes into the floral shop, no matter how many times I’ve told him it’s Bo w . . . long O . Bow as in Cupid’s bow and arrow.”
Pap laughed. “Kennedy, you are an original.”
“I’m doing my best to promote the town. Did I tell you that Aggie Samuels requested a variance so she can open a business in the residential part of town? The Cupid Falls Bed and Breakfast. How wonderful would that be? And I think I’ve found the money to expand the trail to the falls into a real bike path. Next summer we can have tours. Gus mentioned buying some bikes and maybe eventually some Segways and renting them out from The Cupboard’s old barn . . . ”
Mal stayed in the kitchen cooking as he listened to Pap and Kennedy catch up. Her enthusiasm for the town was only rivaled by her plans.
He’d found a notebook where Kennedy had obviously jotted down ideas for the Center. There was a bunch of pages with a VD Ideas header. It had given him a start until he realized she meant Valentine’s Day.
“Should we help Malcolm?” he heard her ask.
“No, that boy is just like his mom. He doesn’t like company when he cooks,” Pap said.
That wasn’t quite true. Mal did like company—he used to enjoy cooking with his mother, and he was pretty sure that he’d enjoy cooking with Kennedy. But he’d rather she sit down and put her feet up. She’d been up early this morning baking pies, and he couldn’t help but notice the plethora of fruit baskets, gift baskets, and flowers that lined the counter of her shop yesterday. She had to be exhausted.
The doorbell rang again.
Malcolm heard Pap go to answer the door. Kennedy came into the kitchen. “I brought the pies.”
“Thank you.” He nodded at an empty corner of the counter. She set them down.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked as he mashed the potatoes with a hand masher. “Yesterday must have been crazy for you.”
“I’m fine,” she said in a tone that didn’t brook any further comments.
He switched topics. “I’m going to tell Pap about the baby at dinner. He knows, but I don’t think he’ll acknowledge it until we make it official.”
She nodded. “Fine. But you don’t have to.”
“Kennedy, I—”
Pap came into the kitchen, interrupting what was sure to be an argument. “Look what the cat dragged i n . . . or rather who.”
Mal liked to think that being an attorney had taught him to be prepared for the unexpected and that he was prepared for most contingencies. Well, unexpected was one thing and his father walking into the kitchen was entirely another. He wasn’t sure he could prepare for a contingency like that.
CHAPTER SIX
Mal tried to see his father through Kennedy’s eyes. Malcolm Carter III was a tall man. His dark hair had faded to a steely grey that perfectly matched his eyes. Today he wore a pair of black slacks and grey shirt and no tie. That was Senior’s version of dressed down.
He glanced at Kennedy, who was frowning at his father.
“Dad, what brings you to Cupid Falls? I thought you said you were spending the long weekend prepping for the
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