Doubts & Desires Read online

  The electrician had still not shown up, so the two of them were seated at a table close to the wide plate-glass window. For once, it wasn’t raining, and Merilee’s confidence had climbed as the light had poured into the café, illuminating the blond wood tables and chairs, and casting a delicate glow on the old-fashioned brick walls.

  Having gone over the ads, which Merilee had been delighted with, they were now chatting over lattes from Merilee’s new machine. To Merilee’s disappointment, Celia had not known Adam, but was intrigued at the mention of the handsome ice cream salesman. She’d also tried the gelato and agreed that it was amazing.

  “Oh, he’s just gorgeous!” Merilee assured her. “And, of course, I was a complete klutz from the moment he walked in. I practically knocked over half the furniture. I wish I could be more like you, all calm and composed. You always seem like you have things under control.” She shook her head regretfully.

  Celia burst out laughing and promptly choked on her coffee. As she was recovering and gasping for breath, there was a shy knock at the door, and a young man pushed it half-open, the chimes jingling as he peeked his head in.

  “May I come in?” he asked, putting his head around the door.

  “Are you the electrician?” Merilee asked hopefully.

  “Ah, no,” said the young man, shaking his head and looking genuinely sorry that he wasn’t.

  Merilee tried to hide her disappointment. “I’m afraid we’re not open yet—”

  “Oh, I know. I actually wanted to talk to you before you opened.” He took a tentative step inside. He was short—not much taller than Merilee—and slight, with large brown eyes and a wispy goatee and mustache, and he carried a black portfolio case in one hand.

  “I’m Michael,” he said extending one hand and giving them a warm smile.

  “I’m Merilee Porter,” she said, standing up and shaking his hand. “This is Celia Jackson, my graphic designer.”

  “It’s nice to meet you both. Goodness, did you design these?” he asked Celia, looking at the ads. “They’re beautiful! You must be an artist.”

  Celia smiled ruefully. “I used to be. Now I’m practical. But thank you, I appreciate it. I take it you’re an artist yourself?” She nodded at the portfolio case.

  “Ah, yes.” Michael looked nervous. “I’m in the MFA program at Falls State—not practical,” he gave a self-deprecating laugh, “and I … I was wondering if you were thinking about displaying any local artists in your café? I do watercolors of local landscapes.”

  “Oh, let’s see them!” Merilee clapped her hands with excitement.

  “Okay.” Michael smiled at them, but he was clearly quite nervous now. He put the portfolio on an adjacent table and carefully unzipped it to reveal a short stack of carefully matted watercolors. “This is Mount Hood, of course, from the west. This is Multnomah Falls. This is the view from a vineyard in Yamhill …”

  “These are beautiful.” Celia was looking over Merilee’s shoulder and sounded impressed.

  Merilee studied them. She didn’t know much about art, and she wasn’t familiar with many of the famous places of the area, but she could tell that the paintings were more than pretty pictures of local attractions. The colors were more intense than most watercolor paintings, and they displayed the Northwest landscapes in a variety of weather, seasons and times of day, showing off both the grandeur and the fragility of the landscape.

  “These would look amazing on your walls,” Celia murmured to her.

  Merilee nodded in agreement. They went perfectly with the modern, open vibe that she wanted for Riverfront, and would add an attractive splash of color to the otherwise neutral-toned space.

  “Are you … Do you want to display them or sell them?” she asked, dreading another sales negotiation that she was unprepared for.

  Michael shrugged. “I’m totally open. I thought maybe you could just display them, and if someone wanted to buy them, I’d give you a cut.”

  Merilee nodded as if familiar with this kind of arrangement, but of course, she wasn’t. “How much do you want to sell them for?”

  Michael shrugged again. “Maybe $100, $150 each?”

  Celia shook her head quickly. “I wouldn’t ask less than $300 for the smaller ones, and $500 or more for the bigger ones, and even that’s cheap. These must have taken you hours to do.”

  Michael looked sheepish. “Yeah. It’s just hard to know what people will pay, especially in a college town.”

  “College students won’t buy these, but their parents might, and wine country tourists—they’d love these.”

  “And those are the people I want to bring in to the café!” Merilee exclaimed. “College students, too, of course, but they’re not really my main market. I’d love to display these …” She paused, unsure how to ask about a commission, or what would be a reasonable amount.

  Celia quickly stepped in. “It’s pretty standard for the owner of the space to get a 20% commission. Would that work for you?” she asked Michael. Merilee sighed in relief; it was like Celia had read her mind.

  “Yeah, that would be great.” Michael sounded eager. “Especially if you think we could get at least $300 for them.”

  “I have a contract template for this kind of thing from one of my classes. I’ll send it to Merilee, she can fill it out with all the info, you’ll both sign it, then you’ll be good to go.”

  Michael chuckled. “I wouldn’t even have thought of a contract. You are practical.”

  Celia smiled again ruefully. “I wasn’t always, but now I have kids to feed. Okay—” Celia turned to Merilee. “We’ll need a way to display them. They’ll look amazing against the brick wall. Do you think your Adam could figure something out with hooks in the walls?”

  “He’s not my Adam,” Merilee reminded her, blushing. She’d had Celia sample the gelato and gotten an enthusiastic thumbs up on ordering it for the café. “He’s just some guy who offered to help with the lights. And sell me gelato. I’m not sure if hanging pictures was included in that. But I’m sure we can figure something out,” she brightened up again with an air of finality. “Thank you so much for bringing these in, Michael. They’re going to be a beautiful addition to the café!”

  “Awesome! This is so cool!” Michael clapped his hands.

  “Totally!” Merilee matched his enthusiasm.

  They exchanged contact information, Celia giving Michael more instructions on preparing the paintings for display, and promising both the contract and a template they could use to display the paintings’ names and prices.

  Michael left after hugging them both.

  “I’m so glad you were here!” Merilee exclaimed when the door had jingled shut behind him. “I loved those paintings, but I wouldn’t have had any idea how to deal with them!”

  “Oh, you would have figured it out,” Celia assured her airily.

  But Merilee wasn’t so sure. Would it all have gone as smoothly if she’d been on her own? She bit her lower lip, once again assailed by insecurity.

  “Now I’m afraid I’ve got to get moving,” Celia was saying. “I’ve got to pick up my kids from Eva’s house soon. As long as you’re good with the ads, I’ll send them to the paper, and they should start running on Sunday.”

  Merilee forced her attention back to Celia and the ads, and nodded her agreement. She tried to stuff the doubt down deep inside her, but it nagged at her all the same.

  Could she really make this work?

  ***

  Forty-eight hours after he’d first met Merilee, Adam once again parked his van in front of the Riverfront Café. He was looking forward to seeing Merilee again for reasons that had nothing to do with his gelato, but he had to admit, getting an order from her would be a nice boost.

  He’d contacted Bob Marten, owner and chef at The Stovepipe. The Stovepipe emphasized locally grown foods on its menu, and Adam hoped that his gelato would be a good fit. Bob was at least willing to talk to him about it,
but had flat-out declared that he’d be too busy to see him for at least a couple of weeks. Adam had also had a brief chat with Lesley Young, the manager of the Co-op Grocery. As he’d suspected, she was more interested in take-home cartons than in serving fresh scoops. Packaging individual cartons would be a lot more work for him, and he needed to secure at least a few standing orders for bulk delivery before he could think about taking that step.

  Growing up, Adam had never thought he’d follow in his parents’ and grandparents’ footsteps and take over the farm, but when his mother and father had retired to Louisiana, where his mom had grown up, he’d realized he wasn’t willing to see it sold off. His sister had wished him well and taken off for Sacramento, where she worked in marketing, so now it was up to Adam to see the farm sink or swim.

  And he was pretty sure it could swim … but not if he didn’t take it in some new and different directions.

  So the question now was, was Merilee Porter ready to commit?

  He glanced quickly at himself in the rearview mirror, combing his hair back with his fingers and straightening his collar. Why did he want to impress Merilee again? He reminded himself to focus on the gelato contract. It was a good product, perfect for her clientele. She’d tried it and liked it. The image of her licking the ice cream from his spoon flashed unbidden into his mind, and he shook his head to clear it.

  Feeling more nervous than he should for a visit that was purely business, Adam climbed out of the van and made his way to the Riverfront Café.

  The interior was brighter than it had been two days earlier, but only because the sun was out and shining through the expansive plate glass window that wrapped around the corner of the store. Adam glanced upward briefly to see that the lights had not yet been hung. He suppressed a sigh. Joey Bailey was a good electrician, but customer service wasn’t his strong suit under the best of circumstances. And since his dad, old Mr. Bailey, had broken his hip several weeks ago, Joey had been overwhelmed with work he didn’t really want to do anyway. Adam wasn’t optimistic about Merilee’s chances for getting her lights hung anytime soon.

  Merilee herself was not in the front room.

  “Merilee?” he called. Not getting an answer, he walked further in. Craning his neck over the counter, he tried to see if she was in the kitchen. He heard a noise and called her name again, but there was still no answer. Stepping around the counter and into the back, he finally saw her. She was standing at the sink, her back to him and her earbuds in, and was scrubbing the sink and the surrounding countertop.

  She must have been scrubbing in time to the music, because her hips were moving to a rhythm, and he paused just long enough to admire her curvy rear. Reminding himself that he was there for the sale, he stepped up behind her, cleared his throat and said, “Excuse me!”

  Startled, she spun around, and the scrubbing brush flew into the air.

  Adam caught it deftly.

  Merilee hastily took the earbuds out, her face a flaming red.

  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Adam assured her, kicking himself. Scaring her half to death was not the way to close a sale. Or anything else.

  “Nice catch,” she said breathlessly. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you for—” she glanced at her watch. “Oh. I didn’t realize how late it is. Um, I guess you’re here about the gelato?”

  “Maybe we could go sit down?” Adam suggested.

  “Yeah.” Merilee led him back out to the front and they sat at one of the café’s tables. “So… the gelato’s amazing. Totally epic. I shared it with a few people and everyone just loves it. They kept asking where they could buy it, so I told them to come back here on opening day.”

  Adam blinked. This was going better than he’d hoped. “So, you’re interested. Wonderful! Each 2-gallon tub is about 60 scoops, give or take. Any thoughts on how much you’d like to order?”

  Merilee looked like she was stealing herself. “Yes, one tub in each of the flavors you gave me a sample of. You said you’d be willing to let me lease your dipping cabinet on a month-to-month basis, right? I’d like to do that and place just one order for now, so I can see how it sells. Opening day is a week from Saturday, so if you could get everything here a day or two before, that would be great.”

  “No problem. If you decide you’d like to commit to a long-term arrangement, we can talk about dropping the price.” Adam hoped he didn’t sound too eager. A single order and one month’s rental on the dipping cabinet would hardly be enough to turn the farm around, but he was hopeful that establishing his ice cream in a visible place like the Riverfront could lead to more orders in the future. “I just have one favor to ask, and that’s that you let me put a sign on the dipping cabinet that says this is Hartmann Farms Gelato.”

  Merilee nodded. “Sounds good. I think people will like knowing that it’s local.”

  Adam leaned back and grinned. “Fantastic. I just need a check for today’s order and the rental. Once we get going, we can set up purchase orders.”

  “I’ll get my checkbook. Oh, would you like a latte or something? I’ve got my espresso machine up and running.” Her eyes looked bright and hopeful and Adam was happy to have an excuse to stay longer.

  “I’d love a latte, thank you,” he replied.

  Merilee disappeared into the back while Adam cast another look at the high ceiling. He should have thought to put his ladder in the van.

  “No luck with the lights yet, huh?” he asked a few minutes later as she came back and placed a paper cup of foamy coffee along with a check in front of him. “Oh, this is delicious,” he added, taking a sip. “Hang on, I’ll write you a receipt.”

  She sighed and shook her head. “I’ve called a bunch of times. I guess they just don’t want my business. I called someone else, but they weren’t going to be able to send anyone until after I open. So…” She spread her hands out in a gesture of helplessness.

  “I can do it for you if you let me. No charge or anything, just being neighborly.” He studied the ceiling a bit more. “I’ll need to come back with a ladder. Maybe Saturday?”

  Merilee looked hopeful for a moment, then her face fell. “I have to be in Portland most of Saturday. I have a bunch of errands to run. That’s awfully nice of you, though.”

  He shrugged. “Sunday? Unless you’re taking the day off?”

  Merilee rolled her eyes. “No days off in my immediate future, I’m afraid. Um, yeah, if you don’t mind, that would be wonderful.”

  “My pleasure.” Adam admired her over his latte. She wore a scoop-necked sweater that showed a hint of cleavage. The eggplant purple flattered her dark hair and porcelain skin. She seemed more relaxed today—except for the scrub brush, nothing had even come close to falling. He definitely wanted to get to know her better. “So, why Silverweed Falls?” he asked. “You have friends here?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’d visited once when I was going around the vineyards with a couple of girlfriends. It seemed like a cute town, and I loved this location right by the river. There’s a patio out back that overlooks it. It’s really beautiful.”

  He got up and walked over to where she indicated and she followed him.

  “Of course, I’m not sure if it was really the best idea,” she gave a rueful laugh. “I wasn’t really thinking about the fact that it rains nine months out of the year here.”

  Adam pushed open the back door and stepped out onto the wooden boards. It was a typical Oregon spring day, cloudy one moment and sunny the next, and as Merilee stepped out behind him, the sun suddenly came out, bathing the air around them in pale gold.

  “A lot of restaurants in Portland have outdoor areas like this. They just put up plastic sheeting and bring out some heaters and use ’em all year,” he assured her. “No reason you couldn’t do something like that. I think this is a great location.”

  “Oh. Thanks.” Merilee sounded surprised. The two of them looked out over the river for a moment. It wasn’t a big ri
ver; in the summer, it was more a meandering creek. But now, swollen with the spring rains, it rushed past them with a low, continuous roar.

  The sight was exhilarating, and Adam, inspired with courage, turned to Merilee, determined to ask her out on a date. To his surprise, her face was pensive and she stared out over the river with a frown on her face.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  She shook her head and gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, just thinking of everything I need to do before next week. It’s a little overwhelming. I’ve never done anything like this by myself before.”

  Okay, so maybe not the best time to ask her out, he thought. But he could do one better. “Listen, I’ve got an appointment over at the Co-op, and I need to be back on the farm by five to bring in the cows, but between then, I’ve got a couple hours free. What say, I come back after lunch and you can put me to work?”

  She shook her head again. “Oh, I couldn’t … it’s bad enough that I’m asking you to help with the lights. Please, don’t worry—”

  “No worries,” he shrugged. “You can pay me in more of this delicious coffee.” He raised his cup to her as if toasting her. “Here’s to Merilee’s new life in Silverweed Falls.”

  Chapter Three

  Having Adam in the café had been an unexpected boon. For two hours, she’d put him to work painting the area behind the counter while she cleaned and painted the kitchen. He was relaxed, friendly and encouraging, and she’d felt more like her old self when he’d been around. In fact, his easygoing attitude had been contagious; for a while, it had felt like the amount of work that she had to do was actually quite manageable, and that it was just her anxiety about opening that made her feel stressed out and busy.

  He’d left, apologizing that he’d be busy for the next couple of days, but had promised to bring in his ladder and take care of her lights on Sunday. She’d taken advantage of his departure to give him a quick hug, enjoying the brief feel of his strong arms around her, and the warm, lemony scent of him.