“A bran muffin,” he answered without hesitation, then instantly regretted it. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t usually this open and transparent with anyone. Had she cast a spell over him?
She looked dismayed. “Really? That’s it? A bran muffin?”
“With raisins.” He grinned sheepishly. Naturally, he hadno intention of admitting that bran muffins with raisins were, hands down, his favorite.
“Interesting.” She leaned back with a creased brow. “And do you consider yourself to be an expert on baked goods?”
“Not in the least.” He grimaced. “The truth is I avoid sweets altogether.”
“Both in women and pastries?”
“You have me all figured out.”
“Hardly, Mr. Emerson.”
“Please, call me George.”
“Only if you call me Willow.”
“Agreed.” He set down his cup and just looked at her. “This has been a most extraordinary evening.”
“Really? In what way?”
“Well, I lead a very quiet life. To be honest, I rarely go out at night. And here I am at a coffeehouse at nearly ten o’clock ... and that’s after I’ve indulged in goat cheese and kombucha.”
“Kombucha?” She blinked.
“Collin had me try some.” He made a face. “Not exactly my cup of tea.”
“No, I wouldn’t think so.”
“But it was nice getting better acquainted with Collin. I think he and I share some commonalities.”
“How so?”
George explained about being raised by his grandparents. “But that’s because my parents were killed in a car wreck. I was surprised to hear that Collin’s mother is a grunge band groupie. At least that’s what I think he said.”
Willow’s smile faded. “Yes, Josie has led a troubled life. I keep hoping she’ll return to her senses and come home.I even offered her one of the apartments above the gallery. But she declined. Last week, I texted her an invite to Collin’s graduation, even offering to cover her expenses, but she texted back that there’s a big concert in Fort Lauderdale the same weekend.” She glumly shook her head. “It’s as if she’s forgotten that Collin is her own son.”
“That must be frustrating for you.”
“Do you have children?”
He shook his head. “Never married.”
“Then I doubt you can imagine just how frustrating it is.” She sighed. “But then that’s life. You can’t let it beat you up. And as I remind myself every single day, God knows what he’s doing. Even if I don’t.”
George considered her words. For some reason he hadn’t supposed that Willow West was a particularly religious person. It just didn’t appear to fit her carefree hippie persona. But, of course, he was no expert on religion. “Collin mentioned that you’re widowed...”
She slowly nodded. “Asher passed away ... It’ll be three years in October.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. He was a dear, lovely man. And we had a very good life together. He was the sort of man who happily embraced each day—right up to his death.”
“Was it unexpected? His death, I mean.”
“Of course, it was a shock when he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Everything happened so quickly. But at least it gave us time to take care of things ... to say goodbye. Asher seemed ready to go. But he was only in his midseventies when he passed away.”
