Her eyes held his, wavering before they finally dropped. When she sighed, he motioned to the bench in front of the store. He'd originally placed it there, wedged between the ice maker and a rack of propane tanks, as a joke, knowing that it would sit unused. Who would want to stare at a parking lot and the road out front? To his surprise, on most days it was almost always occupied; the only reason it was empty now was because it was so early.
Katie hesitated before taking a seat, and Alex laced his fingers together in his lap.
"I wasn't lying about the fact that the bike has been collecting dust for the last couple of years. It used to belong to my wife," Alex said. "She loved that bike and she rode it all the time. Once, she even rode it all the way to Wilmington, but of course, by the time she got there, she was tired and I had to go pick her up, even though I didn't have anyone to mind the store. I literally had to close the place up for a couple of hours." He paused. "That was the last ride she took on it. That night, she had her first seizure and I had to rush her to the hospital. After that, she got progressively sicker, and she never rode again. I put the bike in the garage, but every time I see it, I can't help but think back on that horrible night." He straightened up. "I know I should have already gotten rid of it, but I just couldn't give it to someone who'd ride it once or twice and then forget about it. I wanted it to go to someone who would appreciate it as much as she did. To someone who was going to use it. That's what my wife would have wanted. If you'd known her, you'd understand. You'd be doing me a favor."
When she spoke, her voice was subdued. "I can't take your wife's bike."
"So you're still giving it back?"
When she nodded, he leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. "You and I are a lot more alike than you realize. In your shoes, I would have done exactly the same thing. You don't want to feel like you owe anyone anything. You want to prove to yourself that you can make it on your own, right?"
She opened her mouth to answer but said nothing. In the silence, he went on.
"After my wife died, I was the same way. For a long time. People would drop by the store and a lot of them would tell me to call them if I ever needed anything. Most of them knew I didn't have any family here and they meant well, but I never called anyone because it just wasn't me. Even if I did want something, I wouldn't have known how to ask, but most of the time, I didn't even know what it was that I wanted. All I knew was that I was at the end of my rope, and to continue the metaphor, for a long time, I was barely hanging on. I mean, all at once, I had to take care of two young kids as well as the store, and the kids were younger then and needed even more attention than they do now. And then one day, Joyce showed up." He looked at her. "Have you met Joyce yet? Works a few afternoons a week including Sundays, older lady, talks to everyone? Josh and Kristen love her."
"I'm not sure."
"It's not important. But anyway, she showed up one afternoon, maybe around five or so, and she simply told me that she was going to take care of the kids while I spent the next week at the beach. She'd already arranged a place for me and she told me that I didn't have a choice in the matter because, in her opinion, I was heading straight for a nervous breakdown."
He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stifle the memory of those days. "I was upset about it at first. I mean, they're my kids, right? And what kind of father was I to make people think that I couldn't handle being a father? But unlike anyone else, Joyce didn't ask me to call if I needed anything. She knew what I was going through and she went ahead and did what she thought was right. The next thing I knew, I was on my way to the beach. And she was right. The first two days, I was still a wreck. But over the next few days, I went for long walks, read some books, slept late, and by the time I got back, I realized that I was more relaxed than I'd been in a long time … "
He trailed off, feeling the weight of her scrutiny.
"I don't know why you're telling me this."
He turned toward her. "Both of us know that if I'd asked if you wanted the bicycle, you would have said no. So, like Joyce did with me, I just went ahead and did it because it was the right thing to do. Because I learned that it's okay to accept some help every now and then." He nodded toward the bike. "Take it," he said. "I have no use for it, and you have to admit that it would make getting to and from work a whole lot easier."
It took a few seconds before he saw her shoulders relax and she turned to him with a wry smile. "Did you practice that speech?"
"Of course." He tried to look sheepish. "But you'll take it?"
She hesitated. "A bike might be nice," she finally admitted. "Thank you."
For a long moment, neither of them said anything. As he stared at her profile, he noted again how pretty she was, though he had the sense that she didn't think so. Which only made her even more appealing.
"You're welcome," he said.
"But no more freebies, okay? You've done more than enough for me already."
"Fair enough." He nodded toward the bike. "Did it ride okay? With the baskets, I mean?"
"It was fine. Why?"
"Because Kristen and Josh helped me put them on yesterday. One of those rainy-day projects, you know? Kristen picked them out. Just so you know, she also thought you needed sparkly handlebar grips, too, but I drew the line at that."
"I wouldn't have minded sparkly handlebar grips."
He laughed. "I'll let her know."
She hesitated. "You're doing a good job, you know. With your kids, I mean."
"Thank you."
"I mean it. And I know it hasn't been easy."
"That's the thing about life. A lot of the time, it isn't easy at all. We just have to try to make the best of it. Do you know what I mean?"
"Yeah," she said. "I think I do."
The door to the store opened, and as Alex leaned forward he saw Josh scanning the parking lot, Kristen close behind him. With brown hair and brown eyes, Josh resembled his mom. His hair was a riotous mess, and Alex knew he'd just crawled out of bed.
"Over here, guys."
Josh scratched his head as he shuffled toward them. Kristen beamed, waving at Katie.
"Hey, Dad?" Josh asked.
"Yeah?"
"We wanted to ask if we're still going to the beach today. You promised to take us."
"That was the plan."
"With a barbecue?"
"Of course."
"Okay," he said. He rubbed his nose. "Hi, Miss Katie."
Katie waved at Josh and Kristen.
"Do you like the bike?" Kristen chirped.
"Yes. Thank you."
"I had to help my dad fix it," Josh informed her. "He's not too good with tools."
Katie glanced at Alex with a smirk. "He didn't mention that."
"It's okay. I knew what to do. But he had to help me with the new inner tube."
Kristen fixed her gaze on Katie. "Are you going to come to the beach, too?"
Katie sat up straighter. "I don't think so."
"Why not?" Kristen asked.
"She's probably working," Alex said.
"Actually, I'm not," she said. "I have a couple of things to do around the house."
"Then you have to come," Kristen cried. "It's really fun."
"That's your family time," she insisted. "I wouldn't want to be in the way."
"You won't be in the way. And it's really fun. You can watch me swim. Please?" Kristen begged.
Alex stayed quiet, loath to add pressure. He assumed Katie would say no, but surprising him, she nodded slightly. When she spoke, her voice was soft.
"Okay," she finally said.
9
After getting back from the store, Katie parked the bike at the back of the cottage and went inside to change. She didn't have a bathing suit, but she wouldn't have worn one even if she did. As natural as it was for a teenager to walk around in front of strangers in the equivalent of underwear and a bra, she wasn't comfortable wearing something like that in front of Alex on a day out with his kids. Or frankly, even without the kids.
Though she resisted the idea, she had to admit he intrigued her. Not because of the things he'd done for her, as touching as that was. It had more to do with the sad way he smiled sometimes, the expression on his face when he'd told her about his wife, or the way he treated his kids. There was a loneliness within him that he couldn't disguise, and she knew that in some way it matched her own.
She knew he was interested in her. She'd been around long enough to recognize when men found her attractive; the clerk at the grocery store talking too much or a stranger glancing her way, or a waiter at a restaurant checking on their table just a bit too frequently. In time, she'd learned to pretend she was oblivious to the attention of those men; in other instances, she showed obvious disdain, because she'd known what would happen if she didn't. Later. Once they got home. Once they were alone.