“Thank you for coming with me,” Tom replied. “I’ve been thinking about what you mentioned regarding the renovations to the Hoops House. How are they coming along?”
“Slowly but surely,” Lucy said with a slight laugh. “I’m meeting with the contractors tomorrow afternoon to go over the progress. The foundation work was more extensive than we initially thought.”
“Would you like some company?” Tom asked, then quickly added, “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind a second pair of eyes looking things over.”
Lucy smiled warmly. “If you have the time, I’d like that very much.”
“What time were you planning to go?” Tom asked, already making a mental note to clear his afternoon schedule.
“Around two o’clock,” Lucy told him. “The contractors said they’d have the structural report ready by then.”
“Perfect,” Tom said. “I can arrange to have the afternoon free.”
Their eyes met in the soft hallway lighting, and suddenly the world around them seemed to go quiet. Tom became acutely aware of how close they were standing, the way the lamplight caught the highlights in Lucy’s hair, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing.
They began moving toward each other, drawn by forty years of unresolved feelings and the magic of an evening that had reminded them both what they’d lost so long ago.
The sharp ding of the elevator interrupted the moment, and they jumped apart just as Margo stepped out, looking tired but managing a smile when she saw them.
“Oh, good, you’re back,” Margo said warmly. “I’m glad I caught you, Mom.”
That’s when Tom noticed the towel draped over Margo’s forearm, and his instincts immediately went on alert.
Lucy noticed it at the same moment. “My goodness, Margo, what happened to your arm?” she asked, immediately stepping forward in concern.
“It’s just a small burn,” Margo assured her, though Tom could see pain flickering in her eyes. “I was hoping you could give me some salve for it.”
“Absolutely not,” Lucy said firmly, her maternal and professional instincts taking over. “I’ll be the judge of what treatment it needs. How did you get burned?”
“I think my memory is completely shot,” Margo said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I forgot I’d left the burner on under the large stock pot. Thank goodness I had to go back to get some ice cream for Mrs. Rentz, or I might not have remembered until morning.”
“That’s not like you at all, sweetheart,” Lucy said, frowning with concern. “You’re usually so careful about things like that.”
“I know, I know,” Margo waved off the concern with her uninjured hand. “I’ve just been forgetful lately. Anyway, as I was reaching to turn off the burner, the back door banged really loudly and startled me. I slipped on a wet spot on the floor and instinctively grabbed for the side of the stove to catch myself. I forgot the burner was still on and caught my arm right in the flame.”
Lucy carefully peeled back the gauzy cloth covering the injury and sucked in her breath sharply. “Oh, honey, this is not a small burn at all.”
“Mom, seriously, it’s not that bad,” Margo tried again to minimize the injury.
“This is going to need proper treatment at the clinic,” Lucy said decisively. “The blistering is already starting, and we need to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”
“I’ll drive you both,” Tom offered immediately. “But first, Margo, can you give me the keys to your shop?”
“Why?” Margo asked, looking puzzled.
“Honey, this is the third incident that’s happened to you in the space of three days,” Tom pointed out, his professional concern evident in his voice.
Lucy’s head shot up to meet his eyes, understanding immediately dawning, then she turned back to her daughter with renewed worry.
“Tom’s right, sweetheart,” Lucy said quietly. “This pattern is concerning.”
“Let me just check out the shop,” Tom told Margo gently. “I know you thought you left the door unlocked the other night, and that you figured you must have spilled grease on the floor that caused your baker to slip and get hurt. Now this...” His eyes met hers seriously. “I’m sorry, Margo, but with the fires starting up again around town, I need to make sure these are just accidents.”
“Okay,” Margo said, holding up her uninjured hand in surrender. “But can we please go get this looked at now? It’s really starting to hurt.”
Tom nodded and took them to his car. After dropping them off at the clinic, promising to return after examining the coffee shop, he pulled out his phone and called Holt.
“Can you meet me at Margo’s coffee shop?” Tom asked without preamble. “I need help going over the place.”
