“Pleasure. Jordan Tuscana.”

“So you’re the charmer everybody’s talking about. Mr. Lacamore said you jumped his dead car battery yesterday in front of the library.”

Jordan shrugged and looked skyward playfully. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“And modest too. Nice.” She swung a dishtowel over her shoulder. “Well, I have some cleaning up to do in the kitchen. See you around, sugar.” Eden turned and widened her eyes at Molly as she passed.

Jordan inclined her head in the direction of Eden’s retreating form. “She seems fun.”

“She is. But don’t let the accent fool you. Even the cruelest of jabs can sound gentle with a ‘bless her heart’ tossed in at the end. It’s her most notable skill.”

“I’m incredibly jealous.”

“Ditto. Will I see you later?”

Jordan made her way to the door. “You will. I’ll swing by your place about four to finish the shutters. Maybe we can grab dinner after?”

At Molly’s hesitation, Jordan paused and walked suspiciously back to the counter. “What? Don’t tell me. You have another date?”

Molly dropped her gaze.

“Oh my, you totally do. You have another hot date to go on.” She was grinning playfully, but the d-word alone was enough to make Molly’s blood pressure spike at the impending drink she’d agreed to have with yet another stranger. Apparently, Eden’s friend Paulene worked fast. The first setup had been difficult enough to muster the courage for. And after that whole traumatic experience, she didn’t know how she was going to manage a second go-round. What if it went just as poorly?

“It’s not a full date this time,” she explained to Jordan. “Just drinks. A half-date. It’s stupid, but I’m going and it doesn’t need to be discussed further because now I’m all…I don’t know. Damn it.” She stared at the buttons on the cash register, studying their grooves and attempting not to let herself freak out. Too late. The panic had already set in, and her heart thudded rapidly in her chest and the noise in the room was all sorts of deafening.

A minor panic attack. That’s all.

She’d had them before and would get through this if she could just, you know, find more air in the room. It was embarrassing and she had no reason to get all worked up over a dumb half-date, but alas, she was.

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” Jordan said gently. Molly lifted her gaze to Jordan who stared back at her with calm, understanding eyes. “Inhale slowly, okay? Again. And one more time.”

And then, Molly could breathe again. She never realized how much she loved air.

Jordan paused, allowing her a moment to get back on track. Her voice was quiet, reassuring when she spoke again. “It’s okay, Mol. We don’t have to discuss it. But you’re going to be okay, all right? See you at four.” And with a quick wink and a beautiful smile, she was off. Molly stared after her, wondering how with just one reassuring look and some kind words, Jordan had managed to steady her lilting ship. Her heart rate slowed and the annoying ringing in her ears drifted away.

She took another deep, much needed breath and reminded herself why. Because that’s what Jordan did. She made everything seem within the realm of possibility, even the most enigmatic. It was her gift. It was the way she approached life and it was contagious. It had always been that way.

“So that was little sister?” Eden began the process of moving warm oatmeal cookies from the silver tray in her hands to the display case.

“Uh-huh.”

Eden whistled low and Molly regarded her with a long look.

“What? What does that mean? Explain your pointed whistling.”

“Well, she’s ridiculously dreamy is all. Strikingly beautiful. A looker. I see what Summer’s been going on about now.” Eden picked up the empty tray and sauntered back into the kitchen.

But something about the comment didn’t sit well with Molly and she was forced by an act of nature to follow. She pushed open the swinging door and sidled up next to Eden at the sink where she stood washing the tray.

“What do you mean? What did Summer say exactly?” She tried her best to be nonchalant, but wasn’t sure how effective she was. So she picked up a mixing bowl and began to wash. Keeping busy would help.

Eden paused in the midst of washing. “Would take less time to tell you what she didn’t say, if you catch my drift. Can’t say I blame her. I’m straight as the day is long, but I know a gorgeous woman when I see one, and trust me, I just saw one.”

“So you’re saying Summer’s interested ? In Jordan.”

Eden threw her a curious glance. “That’s what I’m saying. I’m also saying that if you scrub that bowl any harder, we’re gonna have a plate on our hands.”

“Huh?”

Eden turned the water off. “It’s clean. Give me that.” She placed the bowl on the top shelf of the cabinet and turned back to Molly. “You don’t like this at all. Just look at you, all worked up and steely eyed.”

“What? No. Summer and Jordan can do as they please. I was just curious about the gossip. You always seem to have it all before me. Never fair. How are we doing on apple scones?”

“We’re fine. Are you?”

Molly settled in atop the small stepladder. “Of course I am. Jordan is capable of making her own decisions. But if you must know, I happen to think that Summer is all wrong for her and I can’t help but feel, I don’t know, protective.” Molly sighed. “Jordan needs someone caring, someone sensitive who gets her and will let her be who she is. Summer’s about as warm and cuddly as a pit viper, and that might even be generous.”

Eden grinned at her widely, knowingly even, and it was annoying. “If you say so.”

“I do. And don’t look at me like that.”

Eden snapped her on the backside with a dishtowel as she passed. “You’re a complicated woman, Molly O’Brien. But it certainly keeps things interesting around here.”

*

It was after eight when Jordan made it home from Molly’s place. Thank God daylight was holding on longer now that they were into spring. The shutters looked great if she did say so herself. It was entirely possible she had a future in home repair. Her arms were a bit sore from painting, and it was plausible she wore home a higher percentage of the dusty blue paint than was actually on the shutters themselves, but it was a worthy cause.

Molly hadn’t made an appearance, but it was probably for the best. Watching her glammed up and hopeful as she headed out for the evening with some random woman was a memory she could live without. Though she did hope for Molly’s sake that the evening went well. She deserved to be happy, more than anyone she knew. She wanted that for her.

“Hey there, sweetie. You’re looking especially…blue.” Her mom grinned at her own joke as she stood in front of the microwave heating something in a small dish. No doubt her dinner. She was still wearing her scrubs, which indicated she hadn’t been home from the clinic long.

“Yeah, it’s a new look I’m trying out. I call it Shutter Smurf. No Dad tonight?”

“He’ll be along shortly. Mr. Rubenstein stopped in after closing with pain in his heel. Might be that bone spur acting up again. Your father agreed to stay and take a look.”

“Nice of him.”

“Some warmed up spaghetti?” Her mother held up the Tupperware bowl from the microwave. She looked tired. The day must have been a long one for her, as were most. Her parents had opened the one and only medical clinic in Applewood eighteen years prior and gave generously of their time to the members of the community. One of the many things she admired about them.

“Give me about thirty minutes and I’ll gladly arm wrestle you for some of that, but I think I need a quick shower first.” She pushed off the counter and started in the direction of the hall.

“Jordan, before you go…”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll notice I put a box in front of your bed with some things for you to go through.”

“No problem.”

“Some things of Cassie’s. We held on to them for you, just in case.”

Jordan nodded appreciatively, but didn’t say anything because the lump in her throat was in the way.

Her mother’s face softened in understanding. “Take some time and see if there’s anything you might want to keep for yourself. No rush.”

And there it was.

That sinking feeling she got whenever she allowed her mind to acknowledge the accident. It was like all the color in the room faded at the reality check. However, she did her damndest to push through it. “Sure, I’ll take a look.”

But fifteen minutes later, as she sat on the floor of her childhood bedroom, wet hair from the shower dripping on the carpet, the box a few feet away was a little too daunting. So instead of moving through the items in the box, she stared at it, letting her thoughts travel where they may.

The soccer ball peeking out from on top was familiar to her right off. But it hadn’t technically been Cassie’s. It was hers, on loan to her sister from the night before Cassie’d left for college in Chicago so many years before.

That night was still so incredibly vivid in her memory. She had been fourteen then and it had been warm out, one of the last lingering days of summer. She was sad at the thought of Cassie leaving home, which had manifested itself into despondency. She’d never been good at dealing with heavy emotion. So instead of sitting around the kitchen table and having one last dinner with her family before Cassie left for school, she’d taken her ball, and without permission, headed to the soccer field at the high school.

The daylight was fading as dusk shifted to night, but she could still make out the lines on the field as she practiced her footwork. Anything not to think about the next day, and what life would be like at home from here forward. Her brother had moved out two years prior, but it hadn’t carried the same weight. The age difference was wider, and her relationship with Cassie was, well, different. They did stuff together, played soccer, watched movies, hung out. Okay, sometimes she annoyed Cassie when Molly or her friends were around, but in the scheme of things, that was no big deal.

She’d be all alone now.

Maybe she was acting childish, feeling sorry for herself, whatever. But she couldn’t help it. As she dribbled, she felt the tears touch her eyes.

“Don’t get ahead of the ball.”

She paused and turned at the sound of the voice. “What?”

Cassie stood a few yards behind her, arms folded as she watched, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Stop doing that. You always get ahead and it screws up your control. If you want to make varsity this year, you have to work off of technique, not just speed and tenacity.”

No longer alone, she swallowed the emotion and quickly swiped at her cheek to erase any evidence of shed tears. “Yeah, well, we can’t all start our freshman year.”

“And that’s the second thing that’s going to get in your way.”

“What?”

“Self doubt. You’re good, Jordan. Hell, more than good, but you let your head talk you out of everything.”

Jordan nodded, knowing it was true. “It’s just that everyone wants me to be you. I can’t do that.”

“Because you’re not me. And anyone who expects that is not seeing how great you are all on your own.”

Jordan took in the words, letting them settle. “That’s cool of you to say.” In that moment, she was feeling all sorts of sad again. She and Cassie had a typical sibling relationship full of daily arguments, hanging out, and lots of mutual interests. Mainly because Jordan looked up to Cassie. A lot.

“Tell you what. You make the team and I’ll make sure I’m there for your first game.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. It’s only a two-hour drive. What? Did you think I’d never come home again? It’s Chicago, Jordy, not Mars.”

“No, it’s just awesome that you’d come, you know, for me. My game, I mean.”

“Like I’d miss it. Wanna knock it around for a while?”

“Sure.” In actuality, nothing could have cheered her up more, but she played it cool. Jordan shot the ball to Cassie and they spent the next half hour passing it back and forth, dribbling up the field as they talked about anything and everything.

“Check in on Molly for me, okay?”

“Definitely.” Molly had opted to stay in Applewood after graduation and take more ownership of the bakeshop alongside her dad. It was her lifelong passion, and Jordan couldn’t have been more pleased to know that at least she’d still have Molly a few doors down. Not the same as Cassie, but it was still something to hold on to.