Wishing on Willows: A Novel (39 page)

“We talked about kids again last night. Evan is convinced bigger is better.”

Robin smiled wanly, then ran her hand over the shiny surface of an older, but well-kept piano. “You’re still having doubts?”

“One daughter is making me neurotic enough. Can you imagine me with two?”

Robin smiled. Bethany didn’t give herself enough credit. She was a wonderful mother. “You’re only saying that because of your recent trip to the ER.”

“I’m saying it because the thought of giving birth to another child is terrifying.”

Bethany’s labor had been long and grueling. Unlike Caleb, baby Elyse was in no hurry to leave her mama. A week and a half past her due date, the
doctors finally induced, and the little girl wasn’t so little anymore. Twenty-four hours of hard labor that ended in a C-section made the entire thing pretty traumatic. “Give it a few more months, and you’ll forget the pain.”

“The memory’s pretty much seared into my neurons.”

“Even if it is, you have to admit, the pain’s worth it.” Robin thought about her son. The kid was a living, daily testament to that truth. She smiled at Bethany, but her friend was giving her an odd look. “What? You don’t agree?”

“Oh, I agree. In fact, I think it was a pretty astute observation.”

The irony sunk in, slow motionlike, and Robin’s cheeks burned. She turned around and scrambled for a subject change. She didn’t want to talk about Ian. “So … Amanda’s dating somebody new.”

“I heard.”

“She’s pretty smitten.”

“I think she’s still in rebound mode.”

Robin examined a nine-foot black grand piano. “Donna called yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?”

“She wants me to bake their wedding cake.”

“That’s right up your alley, isn’t it?” Bethany stopped in front of a cherry-finished upright—brand-new and freshly polished. “What about this one?”

Robin pulled herself from the grand and came to her friend’s side. She pressed a few of the keys, her heart tugging at the sound. Three weeks of no café or piano had taken their toll. All the idle time gave her unoccupied mind too much space to wander. And wander it did—to things she’d rather not think about, like her increasing restlessness over Ian’s absence. So when Evan offered to spend a Sunday afternoon with the kids so Bethany and Robin could go piano shopping, Robin pounced on the offer. Anything was better than sitting around thinking about Ian, the town meeting, and her café.

“It reminds me of the one you play at church,” Bethany said. “Do you like it?”

Robin lifted her shoulder. “It’s pretty.”

“Okay, what gives?”

“I didn’t think it would be this hard. Looking for a different piano.”

“Robin, of course it would. That old one was your mother’s and you learned to play on it. She learned to play on it. It had memories.”

“Are you trying to make me feel worse?”

Bethany took Robin’s arm and pulled her to the side of the store, away from a young couple examining one of the instruments. “But Caleb’s young. Teach him how to play on a new piano and make more memories.”

Robin did her best to rally, to find that silver lining she was usually so adept at grasping, but her insides only drooped. Why was rebounding so hard these days?

“Where’s your mind right now?” Bethany asked.

“Nowhere productive.”

“That’s what I thought.” Bethany handed her purse to Robin. “Could you hold this? I have to use the rest room. When I get back, let’s skip the piano shopping and get ice cream.”

“Do you have gum in here?” Lunch had left Robin with major onion breath.

“Somewhere. Go ahead and dig.” Bethany turned toward the ladies’ room.

Robin opened the purse and dug through the contents—so completely different from her own. No Band-Aids. No extra pair of Spider-Man underwear. Obviously, Bethany didn’t have to worry yet about Elyse having some sort of four-year-old emergency. Robin moved aside Bethany’s keys, her cell phone, several business cards and stopped. She blinked at the name typed across the top of one of them. Ian McKay. McKay Development and Construction.

What was this doing in her friend’s purse? With the card in one hand and the purse in the other, she followed Bethany’s fresh trail and pushed through the bathroom door. “Bethany?”

Bethany’s Ann Taylors were visible beneath the stall. One of her Ann Taylors disappeared and the toilet flushed. Bethany had an odd habit of
flushing public toilets with her foot. “What’s up?” she asked, opening the door.

Robin held out the card.

Bethany stepped in front of the sink and pumped two squirts of foamy soap into her hands. “That reminds me. He was in town the other day.”

She hated what that bit of news did to her heart. “He was?”

“Evan said he saw him talking with the mayor and the superintendent outside Val’s. Did you see him?”

“No.”

“Do you wish you would have?”

Robin ignored the affirmative answer jumping to the forefront of her mind. She didn’t want to admit it, but she missed him desperately. “Is he still in town?”

“I don’t know.” Bethany rinsed away the lather and dried her hands. “Why don’t you just call him?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“If he’s talking with the mayor and the superintendent, his plans haven’t changed and as far as I know, neither have mine.” Despite her reservations and uncertainty and the niggling doubts, the same phrase kept repeating through her mind.
Be still, and I will fight for you
. So Robin was doing her part and trying her best at stillness.

“If your plans haven’t changed, why haven’t you started fixing your café?” Bethany took back her purse.

“I already told you. I’m waiting until after the town meeting.” If the town voted condemnation, then what was the use? She was not going to take the city she loved to court. “Out of curiosity, how did you end up with his business card?”

“He came to the farm several weeks ago. The day that article came out in the paper.”

“Why?”

“He was trying to figure you out. He didn’t understand why you refused his offer about renting first-floor space from him. After we finished
talking, he insisted we swap cards. I wasn’t going to follow through with anything.”

“What did he say?”

“That I should call him when everything was over and—”

“No. Not that. What did he say about me?”

Bethany smiled.

Robin rolled her eyes. “Please don’t turn into Amanda right now.”

“He cares about you. He wanted to understand you better.”

Robin’s stomach didn’t know whether to swoon or twist. Bethany’s words shouldn’t matter so much. And anyway, if that were true—if Ian did really care—wouldn’t he have come looking for her as soon as he returned to Peaks? Half of her wanted him to disappear, the other half wanted him to chase after her and make her another offer. She held out her hand. “Can I borrow your phone? Mine’s in the car.”

Bethany dug through her purse and handed it over.

Robin walked out of the bathroom, past the rows of pianos, and out into the humidity. She settled herself on the curb, turned the business card over in her hand, and wondered if his work phone had caller ID. For some reason, calling him at work from Bethany’s phone felt so much safer than calling his cell phone. Sunlight glinted off the white surface as she punched in the numbers typed at the bottom. A friendly-voiced woman answered on the second ring.

“Good afternoon. McKay Development and Construction.”

Robin’s airway tightened.

“Hello? Is anybody there?”

She scraped her tongue over the dryness sticking to the roof of her mouth. “Is Ian McKay there, please?”

“I’m sorry. Ian’s out of the office all day.”

“Do you know where he is?” If she drove back to town, past Bernie’s, might she see his car parked in the street?

“He’s in Wahlberg. Then he’ll be in Iowa next week. Soon after that, Jim Harley will be taking over his accounts. Would you like me to put you through to his voice mail?”

“Excuse me, what was that?”

“Jim Harley will be taking Ian’s position at the end of the month.”

“Why?”

“Ian will no longer be working for our company at that time.”

Robin’s ears hummed.

“Would you like Ian’s voice mail or Jim’s?”

“Neither, thanks.” As soon as the friendly voice said good-bye, Robin’s thumb hit the end button. Ian wouldn’t be working for his father anymore? He was leaving the company? She stared—in a daze—at the cars passing in front of her, wondering what all of it meant.

People spilled out the chamber doors of the town hall, huddled in groups, a hum of excitement filling the air. Robin stopped and wiped the slick of sweat from her palms onto her slacks. Dad squeezed her shoulder. The gesture did little to alleviate her jumbled nerves.

This was it. The outcome of tonight would determine the course of her future. So why, in the midst of such an important moment, were her thoughts more consumed with Ian? The three and a half weeks since she’d last seen him stretched into an entire lifetime. The news of his departure from McKay Development and Construction would not leave her head. It kept popping into her thoughts at odd moments, like in the middle of the night, when Caleb padded into her room. Instead of pulling him close and going back to sleep, she’d lie there thinking about how comfortable Ian had been in her kitchen and the things he said about his grandpa Vin’s restaurant.

Robin spotted a flash of blond hair, and her arm muscles clenched. The man turned around and she let out her breath. It wasn’t him. Pressing her hands against her stomach, she faced her support group. Dad, Evan, Gavin, Amanda. They’d all met in the parking lot. Bethany was at home, keeping watch over Caleb and Elyse.

Gavin patted her upper arm. “Don’t worry, Robin. We have your back.”

Her eyes twitched at the swarm of people intent on condemning her property.

“Not everyone is on Ian’s side,” Evan said. “A lot of people at Grace Assembly support you and I’ve talked to some farming buddies. They don’t like the plans any more than I do.”

She gave them a weak smile and led the way into the chamber. She weaved through the crowd, ignoring the growing chatter. By the time she reached the front, a cold dampness pressed against the back of her neck and crept underneath her arms. Evan squeezed her hand and Dad brushed up against her shoulder. Her personal bodyguards.

Her insides sloshed. This was it: Robin versus the development plan. She gathered the nerve to peek across the chamber, where Ian had stood last time, but he wasn’t behind the podium. Her eyebrows bunched together. She glanced at the dais, where Mayor Ford conversed with the council members, all looking equally perplexed.

Ian was late.

Robin scanned the rest of the room, a bubble of emotion expanding inside her chest. Dr. Bremms, the superintendent. Hank, the barber. Ryan and Kim Dolzer, married chiropractors. Judy, the town librarian. Lyle Noldt. Chief Bergman. Cecile Arton, bedecked in her usual mass of jewelry. Bernie, her face a roadmap of wrinkles and age spots. The old woman fanned herself with a folded up sheet of paper while Jed Johnson prattled into her ear. All people Robin had served at her café through the years. If God would truly fight for her, she’d gladly serve them for as long as people kept coming through her front door. Robin checked her watch—five minutes past seven and still no Ian.

Mayor Ford was scratching the top of his bald head, clearly unsure whether or not to proceed without the developer present, when the murmuring stopped. The crowd shifted and there he was, standing across the room. His suit coat unbuttoned, his tie askew, his face sporting more than a five o’clock shadow. Except for that night at Bernie’s, she’d never seen him so … rumpled.

He buttoned his suit coat and strode to the podium. She waited for him to find her, to see her. After so much time, she expected him to at least look. But he straightened his tie and bent his head toward the microphone. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“I don’t understand what we’re arguing about. These condominiums will be good for business.”

“Exactly! This is a waste of everybody’s time.”

“If we condemn her property, then we lose One Life.”

“That’s not true. One Life found another space to rent.”

Robin stared at Ian. Surely he had to feel it. But he just stood there, gripping the podium, his gaze fixed on some unknown target before him. The pounding in her heart picked up speed as the crowd split itself in two. Those in favor of condemnation. Those against it. She waited for Ian to join in and use his charm and his smooth speech to tip the scales in his favor.

“This is about forcing a person out of business, and I say we have no right to do that.”

“We do if it’s for the town’s best interest!”

“Isn’t the café ruined? It’s been closed for the past two weeks.”

Seats groaned as the occupants swiveled to face Robin. She addressed the crowd with a voice much steadier than her emotions. “A fire destroyed the kitchen, but the damage isn’t irreparable.”

“Willow Tree Café is a fine establishment,” somebody chimed. “We have no right to shut it down.”

“Was a fine establishment. It’s charred now.”